


Music of the Soul

by AvengersBarnes



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Genderfluid, Genderfluid Aziraphale (Good Omens), Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Multi, Mutual Pining, On Hiatus, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 01:11:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19757530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengersBarnes/pseuds/AvengersBarnes
Summary: In a world where souls are connected through music, and a world where both angels and demons don't realise that soulmates even exist, Aziraphale and Crowley are drawn together inexplicably and neither angel nor demon quite know why.





	1. The Garden of Eden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My second attempt at Good Omens fanfic. Whoop! Some dialogue is taken from the show so anything recognisable is not mine but the thoughts and feelings behind it is mine. Crowley spends most of this chapter as a snake, also he's not Crowley yet so the spelling is intentional. Anyway enjoy!

Every living creature holds, in their soul, a song. This can be said for all of God’s creatures, from the smallest insect to the great whales that sing in the ocean deep. Even those who have turned from God can remember the song that was placed within their soul, a fact which is very relevant to this story.

Angels love to sing.

They have been singing since the dawn of time, before the Great War, before there was even a word for demon, before there were even any words at all. 

They sang.

And they sang.

And they sang.

In a beautiful celestial harmony. Only if you listened very carefully, you would noticed that each angel sang a different song, a different tune and a different beat. It was only by some miracle that their music blended with no problem at all, a real miracle indeed. If you listened even harder you would notice that occasionally two angels, sometimes three or four or more, would be singing the same song, and if those angels paid any real attention to each other they would notice that they could feel the beat of their hearts, their feelings, their souls. 

This is because they are soulmates. 

Angels, however, have never taken any notice of this phenomenon. They are too busy singing together in mismatched harmony with a gratuitous use of miracles. It’s so deeply ingrained that they don’t even realise they are doing it. As for the feelings, angels are beings of love. They can sense love in any form no matter what the source, so if occasionally they feel sadness, or pain or even curiosity, they don’t think anything of it. 

None of this changed when the angels began to fall, when Lucifer himself created the depths of Hell and they plunged into sulphur and fire, their brilliant white wings burning away as they tumbled from Heaven’s holy realm. None of the angels noticed that their songs didn’t quite fit right anymore, that so many of them no longer felt another soul caressing against theirs. Not all angels lost their soulmates in the fall, but those who did were irrevocably changed. 

Where there was light, there was now darkness. The warmth became cold. Jovial angels became instruments in a war that was never meant to pass. They lost themselves in what they believed to be God’s Great Plan, it was ineffable. Heaven became clinical and precise. There was no room for error. Mistakes and chaos were for demons and no angel wanted to succumb to the fall. 

The demons, on the other hand, felt empty. Their songs were cut off as they fell from grace and they believed it to be just another symptom of the fall. Those whose soulmates fell with them became outcasts. They still had some semblance of faith, they could still feel the burn of another broken soul dancing with theirs and this was something that most demons just couldn’t understand, so most of them burned for eternity, tiny droplets of Holy Water dripping on their skin. It wouldn’t do to have spies in Hell after all. 

Then the Earth was born, or created I should say. Adam and Eve sang together, danced together, loved together. Their souls reached out and became intwined in way that no immortal had ever allowed. 

The angels found it most intriguing. The demons saw it as a weakness to be exploited. The angel sent a principality with more love in their heart than most angels to guard the strange humans. The demons sent a serpent who understood this ‘love’ thing just enough to twist it into hate. 

This would be the downfall of the second Great War but neither Hell nor Heaven would know that for another 6000 years. 

* * *

The serpent slithered lithely across the lush grass. He hissed happily as the blades tickled his underbelly. It had been a long time since Crawley had felt something this pleasant. The heat of the sun prickled against his scaly skin and it was all he could do not to do bask in the bright light of the burning star. The heat in Hell was nothing like this at all. In Hell you could feel the fire burning every inch of your skin, just under the surface like an itch you can’t scratch. In Hell heat was not a pleasant feeling, not like this. This was gentle and tingly. Crawley decided he quite liked this new planet of the Almighty’s and he would do everything in his power to stay here as long as possible. The other demon’s didn’t trust the new world so it shouldn’t be too hard. All he had to do was keep causing some trouble, nothing major, just enough to earn his keep, and he could enjoy the mortal pleasures of the Earth. 

“Oh hello!” A cheerful voice called out as he slithered closer to the tree, the forbidden tree. Crawley couldn’t help but wonder why a tree would be forbidden? What secrets did it hold? and why was the Almighty so desperate to keep them to herself?

An angel sat at the base of the tree, a small rodent like creature was perched on his shoulder, _a squirrel_ his mind supplied. There were butterflies in his hair and tiny little birds nestled in the angel’s soft white wings. Crawley’s heart ached a little as he remembered his own singed blackened wings. As the demon drew closer to the angel the other animals scattered, able to sense the evil in the air. The angel, however, was quite oblivious.

“Are you ok?” The angel’s brow furrowed and he extended a hand towards Crawley. Crawley could feel the angel’s concern even from a distance. If only the angel knew who he was dealing with, Crawley would be dead, well discorporated, in a heart beat. No it was better to remain disguised for now. He hissed a response to the angel and slid up his arm, wrapping his long body around the angel until he reached the angel’s shoulders. The angel laughed and patted Crawley gently on his head. The demon couldn’t help but nuzzled his snout into the angel’s palm. It had been a long time since anyone had shown him any affection. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.” The angel whispered softly. 

Crawley was startled by the wave of unconditional love he felt emanating from the angel. He could remember that angels sensed love but he couldn’t remember ever feeling it so strongly in his heart, certainly not since the fall. 

“Oh I’m sorry, Did I do something wrong? Gabriel always tells me I feel things too strongly, I just can’t help it. It’s… well… I’m an angel! We are supposed to love every living thing you know, but Michael says it’s more… ineffable. General love for all, like a blanket I suppose. Do they have blankets? They should have blankets.” The angel began to ramble on in response to some unknown cue that Crawley had supposedly given him. Crawley could feel the panic building with every word and he had no idea how to stop it. Should he stop it? He was a demon, panic was bad. He should let the angel panic, but now he was panicking.

Satan! This Earth stuff was harder than he first thought. 

So Crawley just let his instincts take over and he licked the angel’s cheek with, what he hoped, was a reassuring hiss. 

The angel shut up.

“Quite. Yes. You’re right. You’re a good snake.” The angel trailed his fingers down Crawley’s spine. Crawley hissed in protest, he was not _good._ “No? Ok, you’re a very…. wily snake?” 

If Crawley could have laughed then he would have laughed but being in serpent form made it rather difficult and he wasn’t ready to reveal himself to the angel. The angel seemed to sense his approval either way though. They sat like that, with Crawley curled around the angel’s shoulders, longer than they should have done. Crawley had a job to do and Beelzebub would not be pleased if he waited before causing some trouble but he was enjoying the warmth of the angel, and hey, Sloth was a sin right? A deadly one at that. 

The angel began to hum to himself as the sun began to set on the garden. It was a beautiful song and one that Crawley knew by heart which was strange because he had been convinced that he had made it up and yet this glorious creature knew it too. Crawley hissed along absentmindedly, not quite in tune but not quite able to resist joining in. The angel didn’t seem to mind, and he didn’t seem to care that all the other creatures in the garden were avoiding them, or more precisely the snake around his neck. They were happy sitting under the apple tree together, the angel and the serpent.

The humans began to search for cover as the night settled in. Adam took Eve’s hand and led her towards a cave to shelter them both from the chill of night. Crawley gazed longingly up at the stars, remembering in great detail each one that he helped to create. 

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” The angel breathed in awe of the night sky. “I used to watch them, the angels who were in charge of the stars. It was simply magical, the way they could create fire and dust out of nothing. There was nothing quite like it. Not that I’m not pleased with my role. I do like my sword, I can make it burn like the stars. I protect things see? Like this tree, the source of knowledge apparently. The almighty asked me herself to protect it.”

Crawley smiled to himself, as much as a snake can smile, as he gazed upon his angel. He was a anxious thing but he had a good heart, obviously. Though in Crawley’s experience not all angels were truly good, self-righteous yes, but not good. 

“Aziraphale!” A new voice called and both the angel, who was apparently called Aziraphale, and the serpent looked up. A new angel with cold eyes and soft beige wings approached them, they had a bow slung over their shoulder and a quiver full of burning arrows. “Your shift is over, return to the Eastern Gate.”

“Right.” A pang of disappointment flooded over Crawley. “Quite. Off I go. Eastern Gate.” Aziraphale stood up, flaming sword in hand, and Crawley had to tense all his muscles to stop himself from sliding off the angel’s shoulders. 

“And lose the snake Aziraphale. He belongs in the garden with the rest of God’s creatures.” The new angel raised an eyebrow at Aziraphale who was blushing brightly and over flowing with embarrassment. 

“Of course. I’m sorry my dear, it is time for me to leave you.” Aziraphale brushed a finger under Crawley’s jaw and Crawley flicked his tongue out to brush his angel’s skin. Reluctantly he loosened his muscles and slithered back towards the floor. Playtime was over, it was time to cause some mischief.

Aziraphale left the garden to return to his post on the wall and Crawley climbed the tree. This new angel was more vigilant than Aziraphale and the humans did not get near the forbidden fruit for the rest of the night and the next day. This new angel was no fun at all and Crawley hissed viciously whenever the angel tried to touch him. 

“There’s nothing special about Aziraphale you know?” The angel muttered. “But fine stay in the tree. I was only trying to be nice.” 

Crawley was enraged. Nothing special about Aziraphale? There was everything special about Aziraphale! How could this blithering idiot not see that? Crawley hissed menacingly and gathered poison in his fangs. Quietly as a whisper, in the dead of night on the fifth day in the world, a serpent slid from the branches of the forbidden tree and wrapped around an angel’s neck. 

“See? I’m not so bad.” The angel chuckled, no sense that something truly horrific was about to happen. Crawley squeezed his body a little tighter than necessary around the angel’s neck and sunk his fangs into the exposed skin. “What are you doing? No!”

“Ssssurprise…” Crawley hissed darkly in the angel’s ear as his body fell to the ground and vanished. He wasn’t dead, just discorporated. Crawley slithered away to find the humans, the precious tree was unguarded and it was time to strike. 

He found Eve first. She followed him easily, a quite demonic miracle and she was entranced. He led her to the tree in the dead of night. Once nearby, he let go of his control over her. It was, after all, no fun if he gave her no choice. A few well-chosen words hissed in her ear and she was his. Aziraphale landed in the garden in a flurry of white feathers but it was too late, Crawley’s deed was done and the serpent slunk off into the shadows before the angel could spot him.

“No…” The angel cried as Eve bit into a juicy apple. 

In an instant, fire lit up behind her eyes as she was granted forbidden knowledge. She hurried to find Adam, not listening to Aziraphale’s pleas behind her. She knew wrong from right now, she knew the Angel was right and yet she still chose to ignore him and soon enough Adam was following her footsteps. The thirst for knowledge proved too much of a temptation for the first humans. They were cast out from the garden by the Almighty and left to fend for themselves in the big bad world. Crawley couldn’t understand what the fuss was about, all they did was eat an apple, and what was so bad about knowing the truth anyway? Still, he’d much rather get to explore the whole world than be stuck in a tiny garden in the middle of the desert. 

Whilst he was pondering this he slid up the wall to watch the humans make their way across the desert. He was pleasantly surprised to find his angel stood tall gazing out on top of the wall. With one final hiss, the demon decided it was probably time to reveal himself to the angel. As he long body reached the top of the wall he morphed into the body he was given by Lucifer. His long red hair fell down past his shoulders and his sighed with relief as he stretched out his wings. His serpent body was just so cramped compared to this human form. Aziraphale did a double take when he saw the demon next to him, probably wondering what had happened to the friendly snake from the day before. 

What was truly astonishing is that Aziraphale made no attempt to kill him? He must have known that Crawley was responsible for the human’s being cast out, and what did Aziraphale think had happened to the other angel? So Crawley stuck up a conversation, he wanted to know what the angel thought of the Almighty throwing the human’s from the garden at the first sign of trouble. Crawley wasn’t surprised, after all he was thrown from Heaven for asking too many questions but the angel still had faith. He still believed in ‘the ineffable plan’, same old drivel that the other angels preach but Crawley could sense the doubt underneath it all. He was, after all, a demon and sensing doubt was what demons did best. 

Aziraphale was radiating worry. It was really quite distracting and starting to make Crawley question his own actions. So he began to hum under his breath, a familiar tune that only the angel seemed to know. 

“It was you?” Aziraphale asked breathlessly. 

“Yes. Hello.” Crawley gave him a sort of half salute. 

“You’re the snake?” The angel stared at him wide-eyed.

“Yup.”

“The Serpent of Eden.” 

“Is that what they’re calling me?” Crawley chuckled. 

“Well… yes.” Aziraphale blushed and glanced back towards the ground. 

“Crawley.” The demon offered, ignoring the waves of anxiety coming of his angel. 

“What?”

“That’s my name.” Crawley smiled at the blond next to him. 

“Right. Aziraphale.” The angel replied, fidgeting as he watched the two figures in the distance, one of which had a sword. Crawley’s brain stopped, a sword, a very familiar sword. 

“Didn’t you have a flaming sword?” He asked as the clouds that were gathering in the grey sky began to crackled with electricity. 

“Er…” The angel flushed and the anxiety was back with a vengeance. 

“You did. It was flaming like anything. What happened to it?” Crawley asked, knowing the answer was probably that the humans had stolen it from the angel. Adam’s sword certainly looked like Aziraphale’s, flame and all. 

“Er…”

“Lost it already have you?” The demon teased, his black wings brushing up against Aziraphale’s white ones. The angel blushed even darker and muttered something under his breath which sounded suspiciously like ‘I gave it away.’ but that can’t be true. Not even an angel would be stupid enough to give a mortal a weapon made by God. 

“You what?” He grinned brightly despite the twisted feeling in his stomach growing. He wanted the angel to admit it, loud and proud. Perhaps he could create the original sin and tempt an angel into falling all on his first week at work. That should give him a free pass for a couple of centuries. 

“I gave it away!” He cried and Crawley felt a sharp pain through his heart. “They looked so miserable, and there are vicious animals, and it’s going to be cold out there, and she’s expecting already!” The angel rambled on at a million miles an hour and Crawley couldn’t do anything but listen, enraptured by the angel’s goodness. This was what angels should be, good no matter what the cost. It was what Crawley had always tried to be before he’d been cast away like a piece of rubbish. “And I said, ‘here you go, flaming sword, don’t thank me, and don’t let the sun go down on you here.’… I do hope I didn’t do the _wrong_ thing.” 

The angel was all flustered, his wings were all ruffled up with feathers sticking out all over the place. If Crawley wasn’t a demon, he would have said it was cute, but demons didn’t think like that.

“You’re an _angel._ ” He drawled, resisting the urge to pluck out the loose feathers in Aziraphale’s wings, it was really rather distracting. “I don’t think you _can_ do the wrong thing.” Instinctively he pushed out a wave of reassurance towards the angel. 

Aziraphale wiggled happily and his wings fluttered behind him. “Oh thank you!” He replied earnestly and gave Crawley a smile that could have stopped his heart. It was simple _heavenly._ “It’s been bothering me.” 

Crawley turned away from the angel, who was quite literally glowing. If he stared any longer than he would do something utterly idiotic like try and hold his hand. He was sure that Hell would not be happy about that, his feelings were all too soft and cushy. He felt Aziraphale flinch next to him as Adam drove the flaming sword into a lion’s chest in the distance and the poor creature fell lifelessly to the ground. 

“I’ve been worrying too.” Crawley admitted. The angel had been honest with him, it was only right that he returned that favour. “What I did the _right_ thing, with the whole eat-the-apple business? A demon can get into a lot of trouble for doing the right thing. Funny if we both got it wrong eh? If I did the good thing and you did the bad one.” 

It was meant to be a joke, lighthearted teasing to gain a laugh out of the angel. He really did have a beautiful laugh. A wave of panic hit Crawley and he realised instantly that he’d said the wrong thing. 

“No!” The angel protested. “Not funny at all” He whispered. 

The thunder cracked above their heads and both immortals looked up to the sky to see the first drops of rain fall. Crawley scowled as the cold rain hit his face. He decided very quickly that he didn’t like rain. Without thinking he shuffled closer to the angel and tucked his wings behind his back to stop them from brushing too much against Aziraphale’s white ones. Aziraphale raised his wing high above Crawley’s head. It didn’t completely stop the rain from hitting his head but overall he stayed mostly dry. He smiled to himself as the earlier feeling of love washed over him. Aziraphale began to sing their song under his breath, and for the first time since the beginning of the world Crawley could join in and their voices carried out in perfect harmony across the desert. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! Not gonna lie, I've sold my soul to these two idiots. I've never written a soulmate AU before so this is very fun! Hope you liked it. :D


	2. Two by Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a bit of a time jump. From before the Ark by about 200 years to on the Ark after their discussion that we see on the show. I tried to avoid writing scenes we've already seen in favour of padding out the bits in between. Enjoy!

**3208 BC**

Aziraphale felt rather empty. He had ever since the Garden of Eden. It was all his fault of course, he should have gotten to the tree faster. He should have realised that Crawley was a demon and vanquished him on sight before the other angel’s shift had begun. He still hadn’t had the chance to apologise for that. He hadn’t returned to Heaven since and the angel hadn’t returned to Earth so perhaps Aziraphale would never get the chance to apologise. 

It was bothering him though. Why hadn’t Crawley killed him? He’d had the chance, Lord the demon had been sat around his neck for hours. Aziraphale had been completely unguarded with his sword laying in the grass next to him. Looking back, it should have been obvious. The snake has responded to him like he understood every word that Aziraphale said, which of course he did, and none of the other animals in the garden would go anywhere near the serpent. God, He was so stupid!

Really what was bothering Aziraphale the most was that he was still thinking about the serpent of Eden, about Crawley. Every time he closed his eyes he could see Crawley’s amber ones staring back at him. It was like the demon was taunting him for his failure in the garden. He wondered whether the demon was still on Earth or whether he had been pulled back to hell following the success of the original sin. Aziraphale was stuck on Earth for a couple of millennia for his failings in Eden after all. Although the angel found that he really didn’t mind. Humans were strange and fascinating creatures, their thirst for knowledge hadn’t diminished in the slightest since Eve first took a bite of the apple, and after some consideration Aziraphale couldn’t really see why that was so bad. 

They learnt from their mistakes, some of the time at least, they grew, they developed, they expanded. The humans were simply incredible. Adam and Eve were the parents of a whole new species and over the next few centuries, two humans became thousands. Aziraphale flew happily between the little islands, spreading goodwill and such, absorbing each new culture and language. He learnt to _read._

That was quite simply the most wonderful thing. There were countless stories, some told by word of mouth, some written down in words or pictures, some acted out by the humans themselves. That was really quite delightful. He couldn’t get enough of it. 

And still his thoughts drifted to the demon. 

And he couldn’t get the infernal song out of his head!

No matter how hard he tried it would always circle back to that song, the one he sang on the wall with Crawley sheltering under his wing. 

The humans had a funny theory that had developed after about 400 years. The songs they sang were a call to each other’s soul, and once you found the person who shared your song you could feel them in your heart and soul. Soulmates, the humans called it. The theory was your ‘soulmate’ was the person that you were destined to spend your life with. It was all quite fantastical but still Aziraphale couldn’t help but wonder.

Crawley knew his song.

It was a ridiculous thought, of course. Crawley had simply heard him singing when the demon was still in snake form. He’d sung the song back to him to try and manipulate him, or something equally dastardly and evil. It had all been a ploy to get to the apple tree, Aziraphale was sure of it. He must have been feeling over sensitive when he felt Crawley’s emotions as a snake, or projecting how he thought a snake would react. It did get lonely on apple tree duty after all. 

Still he hadn’t felt quite alive since he flew away from the wall, leaving Crawley stood behind him. Once the storm had passed, Aziraphale had been called upon to fix the wall and follow the humans from the garden, and so he did. He’d gotten a rather angry message from Gabriel about the whole mess, the dove that delivered the message had been really rather frightened by the time she arrived but Aziraphale calmed her down nicely and she passed along Gabriel’s message. Aziraphale had been banished to Earth for the foreseeable future. 

“Hello, angel.” A voice startled him from the memory and he felt his heart beat a little faster in his chest. 

“Crawley?” He asked in disbelief. It was like the demon had been listening to his thoughts and memories. 

“The one and only. You’re not going to try and smite me are you, angel?” Crawley smirked at him but Aziraphale was distracted by the way and demon’s hair was catching in the sunlight. It was like fire was falling down his back, Aziraphale thought it was rather breathtaking. 

“Smite you? Goodness gracious, of course not.” Aziraphale protested vehemently until he realised that was exactly what an angel was supposed to do when they encountered a demon. “Unless you are here causing trouble again?”

“No just passing through. The humans seem to be causing plenty of trouble themselves don’t you think. I can’t imagine the Almighty would be happy to see what their precious humans were doing.” Crawley gestured to the village in front of them. 

Two men in the corner had knives tucked away in their clothes, and were one bad look away from killing each other, another group of kids were kicking a smaller boy on the ground, and Aziraphale knew for a fact that behind the doors of most of the houses men and women were committing all sorts of adultery and sins. It was particularly prevalent in those who did not marry their ‘soulmate’. 

Crawley was absolutely right. The humans had been getting worse over the last century and no amount of goodwill and miracles seemed to make it any better. Aziraphale hadn’t managed to get a break in decades. 

“I was so sure there was some demonic influence…” Aziraphale whispered, utterly dejected. How had things become so bad? He was truly a terrible angel if he couldn’t even compete against humanity, let alone a demon. 

“It’s not your fault angel.” Crawley scowled and moved a step closer to him. Aziraphale instantly felt a little better in the shelter of the demon’s wings. “None of this is your fault.” 

Aziraphale felt a wave of warmth from the demon, it settled in his heart like a mug of hot wine, and all at once he found it easier to breathe. He decided it must be some kind of demon trick, how they manage to work temptations or something.

“Why are you being nice to me?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper, and the warmth went out like a candle being snuffed out at bedtime. It was cold and empty again. Crawley’s face was close to his, his amber eyes glowing and flames dancing at the tips of his hair.

“I am not nice…” He hissed. “It’s just a trick, a game, a ploy… a temptation.” Crawley’s voice tickled in his ear, low and sweet like honey. Aziraphale’s breath caught in his throat as he vividly remembered Crawley’s tongue brushing against his cheek all those years ago. 

“Then I must thwart you.” Aziraphale managed to choke out, the demon was awfully good at this temptation business. He wanted to hold the redhead and never let him out of his sight again but he was stronger than that. He was an angel, a principality of God, and he would not succumb. “Begone demon!” He pushed the demon away from him, his hands glowing ever so slightly, not enough to smite Crawley but enough to singe his clothes. What he was not expecting was the phantom pain in his own chest, mirroring where his hands had been on Crawley’s chest.

Crawley hissed and retreated a few steps. “Well-played angel.” He said as he fixed his clothes with a snap of his fingers. “Can’t blame a demon for trying. Gotta keep the boss happy and all. You know how it is.” Crawley winked and Aziraphale averted his gaze, staring determinedly at the floor, if he risked a quick glance at Crawley then he really couldn’t be blamed. He had to be vigilant you know. 

“Quite. Now you really should leave or I’ll be forced to discorporate you. I got into a lot of trouble last time you know.” Aziraphale pouted. He didn’t want to hurt Crawley, the demon really didn’t seem all that bad and he’d never once made an attempt to hurt him. 

“Alright, angel, See you around.” Crawley waved half-heartedly and began to saunter away. “You might want to hide your wings by the way. You’ll never blend in looking like that!” The demon called out as an after thought and Aziraphale suddenly realised that the demon’s jet black wings were nowhere in sight. 

He could have sworn that they were there just a minute ago, he had felt the feathers brush against his when Crawley had gotten too close. He focussed harder on the retreating man’s figure, and there they were. They were hidden from the view of humans, on some other plane of existence, but Aziraphale was no human. He focussed on his own wings and in a flash of light they disappeared. It felt most peculiar but Crawley was not wrong. He had been getting some very strange looks from the humans in the last few decades, they no longer looked kindly on those they perceived as different. 

In the distance, Crawley began to sing and Aziraphale’s heart began to soar. It was his song, no _their_ song. Crawley had remembered their song. He smiled brightly and hummed along under his breath before he remembered they were sworn enemies. He snapped his fingers and Crawley’s robes began to smoke behind him. It was harmless of course but at least he could say he tried, right?

He felt a surge of amusement in his chest as he heard Crawley laugh fading as grew further away. It filled Aziraphale with hope, and dare he say it, love.

* * *

**3004 BC**

Crawley was nearby. Aziraphale was sure of it. The angel had somehow managed to get roped into herding the animals onto the Ark. Apparently Noah could recognise an angel even without his wings and animals did tend to flock to Aziraphale, which made it a lot easier to round them up onto the great boat. Still it was difficult to get anything done properly with butterflies circling his hair and mice hiding in the folds of his robes, although now the rain had begun to fall there wasn’t much left to do but wait. Noah was settling his family into the Ark and Aziraphale found himself padding about the boat looking for a demon. He had to make sure he wasn’t up to anything too dreadful after all. Aziraphale was lying to himself, but it was easier than facing the truth, easier than facing the fact the another 200 years down the line and he still couldn’t get Crawley out of his head. 

He followed some unseen pull in his soul to the lower levels of the boat, where he was sure that Crawley was hiding. If Gabriel had arrived in that moment ask how Aziraphale knew the demon was on board, the angel would have flushed a brilliant red colour, quite like the butterfly hovering around his right ear, and stumbled over some excuse about being able to sense an evil presence. 

The truth of the matter was that he felt alive, well and truly alive. 

He’d only ever felt like that on three separate occasions since the Great War. Each and every time had coincided with Crawley appearing by his side. He hated to admit it and he liked to tell himself that it was the chance to thwart evil and do the work of the Almighty, that it was just the adrenaline flowing through his veins; a fight or flight response. It was a lie that he told himself so frequently that he was beginning to believe it. 

“Now,” He said to himself, as he hummed a familiar tune under his breath, “If I were a wily serpent, where would I be hiding?” 

He looked around the hold of the boat for a clue. The animals had paired off nicely, staying out of one another’s way with the help of miracles. It wouldn’t do for the lions to eat the antelope whilst they were living in such a contained space for the next few months. The lonely unicorn had settled in with the horses and zebra. She looked sad as if she realised that she was now ultimately the last of her species. Her mane had lost the sheen that Aziraphale normally associated with the equine. He padded softly over to the creature and rested the palm of his hand on her snout. The grief almost burnt against his skin. He was overwhelmed by the feeling of lost love. 

“Oh you poor thing…” He mumbled, tears falling from his eyes. He blinked away the tears as he closed his eyes. The palm of his hand glowed gently against the creature’s soft white fur and the angel absorbed her grief and pain, granting the beautiful creature peace for the rest of her time on Earth. It would hurt him for a few years until she passed away but what was a few years in the life of an immortal being. He took a deep breath and let the ache settle in his heart. 

Aziraphale was so preoccupied with the unicorn that he didn’t notice the mice scurrying away from him and the butterflies fluttering towards the upper decks of the Ark. Beneath him the straw began to shift as a serpent made his way through the boat towards the principality. The angel didn’t notice any of this until a black snake began to wind his way up his leg. His blue eyes snapped open. 

“Crawley….” He whispered fondly as the serpent settled on his shoulders, just like he had on their first meeting. It was easy to forget he was a demon whilst he was in snake form, he just seemed like an overly affectionate reptile. 

“Asssiraphale” The snake hissed, tickling the angel’s neck.

“Care to explain how you ended up on the ark, my dear boy?” Aziraphale chuckled as he tickled the serpent under it’s jaw. 

“Didn’t want to dissssscorporate” Crawley replied as he sniffed the angel. 

“Ah yes, I’ve heard drowning isn’t a very nice way to go. Would you stop that?” He swatted the snake away and fixed the demon with a hard stare. He could feel the amusement rolling off the serpent as he wriggled up around Aziraphale’s arm instead. 

“It’ssss your lotsss fault.” Crawley chided. “Sssoo much death and dessstruction for the sssake of a rainbow.”

“We’re not discussing this Crawley.” Aziraphale pouted. He would not question Her ineffable plan. It would be most un-angel-like of him and it simply wouldn’t do. The serpent huffed, as well as a serpent could, and then slid back down onto the straw. In the blink of an eye he had morphed back into the familiar redheaded demon. 

“You’re sad, angel.” Crawley’s amber slitted eyes stared at him, never blinking, never looking away. It was a statement, not a question. Aziraphale supposed that the demon had been watching his interaction with the unicorn. 

“Yes.” He nodded. The unicorn’s pain thrummed in his heart, every beat was a reminder that the creature was now alone on this Earth but it was a weight the angel was happy to carry. 

“Why did you do that?” Crawley asked, his hand started to reach out towards the angel but the demon pulled back at the last moment with a slight hiss. 

“It was the right thing to do.” Aziraphale smiled sadly. 

“You can’t tell me that it was part of the _ineffable plan_ ” Crawley said the last two words with a great dollop of sarcasm and Aziraphale scowled at him. 

“You never know, and anyway I couldn’t just let her live the rest of her life in pain!” He cried, his hair beginning to glow softly in the dark hold of the ship. 

“Easy, angel, I’m not here to cause trouble, just wanted to survive.” Crawley did reach out this time. His hand rested on Aziraphale’s shoulder and energy flowed between them like a river bursting through a dam. Aziraphale’s heart raced in his chest and thoughts of Crawley’s lips against his began to swirl through his head.

He gasped and blinked rapidly, banishing those thoughts as quickly as they came. It was merely human biology affecting his brain. He’d been on Earth too long. He’d heard the whispers of the other angels, they thought he’d gone native. It had been a huge shock to his superiors once they realised he had begun to hide his wings. 

Aziraphale calmed his breathing and his hair lost it’s glow as he regained control of his heavenly powers. “Sorry.” He mumbled. “Just a bit on edge. A unicorn is able to feel more deeply than I anticipated.”

Crawley scowled at him, his brow furrowed and he sighed deeply. “So it was a good thing to do…” The demon hummed thoughtfully.

“Yes of course. I’m an angel! I am inherently good!” Aziraphale protested, as if he would do the _bad_ thing, the cheek of it. 

“So if I were to, hypothetically speaking, stop you. That would be the bad right?” Crawley raised his eyebrow and began to smile. Aziraphale felt a cold determination seeped into his bones, and he began to wonder what the demon was planning. 

“Don’t you dare! The poor creature doesn’t deserve this.” Aziraphale gaped at his frie… enemy. 

“Oh no of course not but, for the sake of the circles of Hell, I really am obliged to try.” Crawley grinned and it was the only warning Aziraphale got before the demon’s hands were cupping the blond’s face in his hands. Aziraphale’s eyes went wide in shock, frozen in place. Surely Crawley wasn’t going to discorporate him?! 

But death, or discorporation, never came for the angel. 

Instead, the feeling of grief began to fade and it was replaced by this inexplicable feeling of love. Crawley groaned as he pulled his hands away from Aziraphale’s cheeks, which were glowing brighter than the sun, it really was quite embarrassing. 

“Blessed unicorns…” He hissed through gritted teeth, clearly in quite a lot of pain. 

“Crawley you didn’t?” Aziraphale gazed softly at the demon in disbelief. “Oh you silly serpent. Come here.” Aziraphale mirrored what the demon had done a few moments ago, with only some hesitation. His finger tips brushed Crawley’s cheekbones, they really could cut glass they were so sharp, and half the stolen pain shifted back into the angel’s heart. 

The unicorn was watching the whole interaction with intense curiosity. She had been beyond grateful for the angel’s intervention. She was still able to hold her partner in her heart without the crippling knowledge that she was the last of her kind. It was a true gift of heaven but now the angel and his demonic adversary seemed to be arguing about who would hold her pain in their heart. Immortals were such silly beings. It made the unicorn quite glad that she was just a unicorn. 

“There.” Aziraphale stated firmly. The ache in his heart wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been before, and it was nicely offset by the warmth that was emanating off the demon. “Now neither of us win.” He smiled brightly and glanced towards the ground, not quite able to meet the demon’s eyes. If he had he would have seen Crawley gazing at him as if he were the centre of the universe.

The boat began to rock as the tides rose and lifted the Ark off the ground. Aziraphale heard the shouts of Noah from the upper levels of the great wooden boat and he sighed. He should go and help the humans. He was here to guide them on behalf of the Almighty after all. 

“You should stay hidden.” He advised the demon. “No telling what the humans would do if they found a stowaway.”

“Of course. I’m not an idiot angel.” The demon took as step back, putting some well-needed space between them. Aziraphale could have sworn that he felt the emotional walls that the demon had flung up. Any sort of connection between them snapped shut and Crawley turned away from him. “I’m staying below deck until the rain stops. You’re no use without your wings.” 

Aziraphale laughed at the absurdity of it. They had been on earth for an entire millennium and the demon still thought of him as a glorified umbrella. “Quite. I’ll come back soon. Make sure you aren’t up to any mischief.” Aziraphale chuckled. 

“Maybe I should be, it’ll give you something to thwart. A good way to pass the time don’t you think?” Crawley’s wall broke down slightly, and a small amount of light shone through to Aziraphale’s heart. 

“Behave demon.” Aziraphale chided gently. Crawley just winked and morphed back into his serpentine form. He hissed, a forked tongue flickering in the air, before burying himself back into the straw. 

Aziraphale took a deep breath to clear his mind, and headed back to the top deck to help Noah and his family. It was going to be a long few months indeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it. I've really been enjoying writing it so I guess that's the main thing :D


	3. What's in a name?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently this is going to be longer than I first intended... but hey I finally reached AD! Also Crowley is shown to be genderfluid in this chapter. I am not non-binary/trans. So if this is poorly portrayed or offensive or there are ways to make this better representation. Please tell me. I'm trying to do my best to be a good ally to my non-binary pals but I accept that I am likely to make mistakes. 
> 
> Any hoo... enjoy!

**1437 BC**

Crawley sneered at his assignment that had just burst into flames in his hands. This particular one was from Envy herself. Not too difficult but the effects would be felt for a good couple of centuries as long as a certain blond angel didn’t interfere. They didn’t see each other too frequently but occasionally their work brought them both to the same area which Crawley found unbelievably frustrating. What was the point in spending a couple of decades trying to corrupt the soul of a Priestess of Ra is Aziraphale was going to save her soul for God. It was all a waste of time and Crawley’s best friend was Sloth. 

He morphed into his snake form and slithered towards the family home. He could hear voices inside. An excitable young boy was standing on a table top surrounded by his family. Crawley hissed happily to himself, the boy, whose name was Joseph, was so full of Pride that his soul was probably already secured for Satan and Crawley didn’t even have to life a finger. His targets were the brothers. Currently, all 11 men and their wives were chuckling away at their youngest brother’s tales with the usual fond disbelief that older siblings often had. Their father, Jacob, was beaming at the young man’s antics like he was the sun itself. Satan, this was going to be so easy. 

He was so focussed on the task at hand that he didn’t notice a little bubble of warmth rise up in his chest, the telltale sign of an angel being nearby. Well, not just any angel but Crawley hadn’t met enough of the other angels during his time on Earth to realise that yet. He just thought it was something that happened when a demon and angel met. One minute he was sliding his long body along the ground towards Reuben and the next minute he was dangling in the air. 

He hissed in surprise and writhed in his capture’s hands. His fangs were out and dripping with poison now if only he could reach the hand that was gripping onto his tail. 

“I can’t let you do this Crawley.” Aziraphale chided and Crawley let his body go limp and his fangs retracted. His angel was here. Well, not _his_ angel, but his favourite angel, his greatest enemy and probably his greatest friend, not that he was ready to admit to that just yet.

A small amount of chaos broke out as the family realised their guest was holding a huge black serpent at the back of the room. The women cowered behind their husbands, who looked like they wanted to cower behind their wives. Joseph had stopped mid-story and was just staring at Aziraphale like he’d grown an extra head or something. 

“Aziraphale, you have once again saved my family.” Old man Jacob said reverently. “I cannot thank you enough.”

“Oh it’s nothing. I’m quite sure he’s harmless.” The angel blushed prettily, still not moving from the back of the room. Crawley would have rolled his eyes if he was in human form. 

He decided he was getting rather bored dangling like a bit of old rope. So he did what any respectable demon would do and snapped viciously at the angel. He wasn’t actually going to hurt him but no one else needed to know that. He wriggled free from Aziraphale’s grip, using a minor demonic miracle, and flopped rather ungracefully on the floor. He used just enough venom cover his fangs that it would shine in the candle light and lunged at Aziraphale who danced backwards. 

“Honestly, Crawley stop it.” He hissed under his breath. 

“Harmless?” Issachar yelled reaching around for anything that could be used as a weapon. “It’s going to kill us all!” 

“No no, It’s quite safe. I just startled him, that’s all.” Aziraphale called over all the screams in the room. Crawley hissed and snapped at Aziraphale for good measure. 

He was having fun! 

He couldn’t remember the last time he really enjoyed himself. It had been all missions and temptations and demonic interventions for last couple of centuries that he’d forgotten how to really let loose. Aziraphale wasn’t even disappointed in him, he would know if the angel was disappointed in him. Instead he could feel waves of unbridled joy from the angel. Aziraphale was enjoying their dance as much as he was. Crawley ducked in between the angel’s legs, dodging a rock that one of the brothers was throwing at him and pretended to bite Aziraphale’s ankles. Well, he technically did bite Aziraphale’s ankles, but with no venom and not very hard at all. 

The room went silent.

Aziraphale squeaked in surprise and glared down at Crawley who was now latched onto his leg. 

“Dear lord, he bit you!” Dan whisper. “Let us pray for Aziraphale’s soul. May God guide you home, good sir.” 

“Oh for…” Aziraphale muttered, not finishing his sentence. He sank dramatically to the floor, and Crawley hissed as the angel landed on his tail. “I don’t know what you’re playing at Crawley.” Aziraphale whispered so only Crawley could hear. Crawley just flicked his tongue against the angel’s hand. He decided that he might as have been vanquished from the angel sitting on him as he fell so he flopped a few times and then went limp. 

Their battle was over. 

“Is it dead?” Joseph whispered from where he was still perched on top of the table. 

“I think so.” Aziraphale replied in a dramatically weak voice. “I’m umm rather afraid that I don’t have long left. I er… wish to return to my own home. Thank you for your kindness, I’m sure that the heavens will smile upon you.” 

The humans didn’t notice the faint glow that surrounded the angel as he spoke but the light tingled against Crawley’s scales. It didn’t hurt but being so close to the blessing was a little prickly against his skin. Aziraphale picked him up and limped towards the doorway. 

Once they were a safe distance away from the house Crawley turned back into his human form and they both collapsed in a fit of laughter. 

“You… You bit me!” Aziraphale squeaked out between bouts of laughter.

“Yeah well, I’m a demon!” Crawley retorted. “and you sat on me!” 

“An accident I assure you.” Aziraphale smiled at him mirthfully and Crawley was sure that he could see the stars in those beautiful hazel eyes. 

“You’re so full of shit, angel.” Crawley rolled his eyes. 

“Language, Crawley.” Aziraphale chided him but his heart wasn’t in it. Crawley could sense the gentle fondness from the angel and it was really quite addictive. It had been far too long since their last chance meeting. 

“So… what’s heaven got you doing in this part of the world?” Crawley asked, aiming for nonchalance and failing miserably. What he should have done was turn around and make another attempt at completing his temptation, but he wasn’t ready to leave the angel’s side just yet. He was just keeping up with the oppositions plans. It was a tactical thing to do. How was he supposed to keep on top of his workload if he didn’t know what the angels were up to? 

“Joseph has prophetic abilities, or at least he does now.” Aziraphale smiled to himself, staring at the dirt beneath his toes. “I shouldn’t really be telling you this… but… One of the four horsemen will be visiting soon. The Almighty wanted to assure that at least some of the locals could survive.”

“War?” Crawley asked. He didn’t like War. She gave him the creeps, all that death and destruction was just so unnecessary. Like, he was all for sending souls to Satan, he was a demon after all, but couldn’t they just the humans live a full life first.

“Famine.” Aziraphale seethed and Crawley’s muscles ached from a sudden burst of pent up rage. He covered Aziraphale’s hand with his own before he even knew what he was doing and tried to push back some calming emotions. Famine was Aziraphale’s least favourite horseman, Crawley knew that. The desperation he caused in the mortals as they realised their harvest was dead, the slow and painful death as their bodies succumbed to malnutrition was, according to the angel, the worst form of torture. 

“Nothing to do with me. I promise.” Crawley tilted his head and gazed upon his angel. He didn’t know why he always felt the need to defend himself to the angel. He was a demon. He was supposed to be causing trouble, and he was very good at it too. A quick whisper was normally all it took to start a whole chain of events that would chip away at the goodness in their souls. After that it was all down to them and free will. He was a big fan of free will. 

“I know…” Aziraphale said softly. A strange calmness settled over the angel for a few seconds before it snapped back into embarrassment and self loathing, and Aziraphale tore his hand away from Crawley’s. “What _are_ you doing here Crawley?”

“Temptation, spot of fratricide and envy. Nothing good.” Crawley shrugged. “Successfully thwarted. Well done angel.”

“Yes. Well, we needed Joseph I’m afraid. All part of the…”

“Ineffable plan” Crawley finished for him mockingly. “Do you angels ever talk about anything else?”

“Yes! We do!” Aziraphale went a nice crimson colour in his embarrassment and glared at Crawley. His eyes had turned to a rather beautiful emerald green. 

“Uh huh. Right.” Crawley smirked. It was far too easy to play his angel. 

“We have… music!” Aziraphale struggled to think of a good come back. 

“Ah yes, the great celestial harmonies of heaven. How’s that been since the fall of old Lucie?” Crawley chuckled. “I heard they weren’t quite as magical these days.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Aziraphale whispered and a flash of pain cut across Crawley’s chest. He inhaled sharply at the intensity of the feeling. What on earth had he said to cause the angel so much hurt? “They banished me for a couple of millennia.”

“They what?!” Crawley shrieked. Here was this perfect example of goodness who had spent his time on earth gently guiding humans towards God, who never once tried to hurt Crawley despite the fact he was the enemy, who always did the good thing even if it caused him pain, who gave away his only weapon to protect mankind. How in Hell could the angels turn their back on this incredible being. They were going to burn, each and every one of them. He would storm heaven and roast whichever idiot had decided that Aziraphale was anything less than perfect. 

“I must have told you about that, what about when we were on the Ark? It must have come up.” Aziraphale said in a small voice, so quietly that even Crawley was struggling to hear. 

He took a deep breath and looked up at the stars above them. The sky had turned to a rich midnight blue whilst they had been sitting by the edge of the dirt track. The blazing sun had fallen below the horizon and the bright shining moon had taken her place. Crawley gazed longingly up at the tiny specs of light that speckled the night sky, remembering how each one had felt in his hands as he breathed life into them. Earth was a long way away from the stars, and both angel and demon were far away from their respective head offices. Still he couldn’t shake the sneaky suspicion that he was home. 

He thought fondly on their time on the Ark together. It had been a few months before the flood had subsided and everyone had scuttled, slithered and flown off the great boat. It had, to date, been the longest time they had spent in each other’s company and a tentative friendship and struck up between them. There was definitely some kind of connection between them, both steadfastly avoiding the word ‘soulmate’ that the humans favoured. After all a demon and angel being soulmates was ridiculous. Heaven and Hell would sooner see them both destroyed. Still they shared anecdotes of their time on Earth, they spoke about failed missions and successful temptations, they discussed ineffability and had sung in perfect harmony below deck. Noah and his family had grown quite used to the angel pattering about the boat with a snake wrapped around his shoulders, an odd choice of companion they thought but who were they to question an angel of God. 

And then they had landed on dry ground. 

There was no longer any excuse to remain in each other’s company so Aziraphale had bid him goodbye and they hadn’t run into each other again for a couple of centuries. It had been a very bleak couple of centuries. Everyday he spent away from Aziraphale felt like a brutal reminder of his fall; the stone cold emptiness and a song that didn’t sound quite right on its own.

“You never mentioned it.” He hissed darkly. 

“They, upstairs, didn’t quite approved of… well.. Eden. With the sword, and the apple, and not killing you.” Aziraphale waved his arms about helplessly.

“Why didn’t you?” Crawley asked

“Why didn’t I what?”

“Kill me. Well, inconveniently discorporate”

“Oh.” Aziraphale shifted away from him. His wings burst free and wrapped around him like a shield. Crawley’s heart began to beat a little faster and he could feel his own cheeks heat up in a blush that he just knew was mirrored on the angels face. “I’m not sure.”

“Do it now.” Crawley whispered into the cold thin air. Aziraphale’s shock was palpable and in an instant the angel’s wings were around him glowing brighter than they moon.

“Are you insane?!” He hissed 

“Oh yes, but think about it. I get sent back to Hell to sort out the paperwork for a new body. Couple of decades at the most, and you get to go back to Heaven as a hero. You might even get a commendation.” Crawley gently brushed one of the feathers that was tickling his face, it was coming loose. He glanced up at the angel’s face, his eyes were sparkling golden in angelic self-righteousness. Crawley plucked out the loose feather carefully, causing Aziraphale to shudder; interesting.

“I am not killing you.” He breathed, 

“Why not? You’ve killed my kind before.” Crawley drawled as he began to search out more loose feathers in the angels’s wings, they really were a mess. What had Aziraphale been doing all these years?

“We were at w _ar_!” Aziraphale reminded him. “And I only killed if there was no other way. No. I’m not doing it. Get the thought out of your head. I’m leaving now. And Stop messing with Joseph!” Aziraphale flapped his wings to push the demon away from him and then flew off leaving Crawley, as he always did, in the dust. 

“Oh fuck it!” Crawley cursed and sauntered back towards the house. He had been tempted to let his mission remain thwarted, all’s fair in love and war after all… not that there was love, demons didn’t love, he just… “Oh bugger, shit balls!” He covered his face with his hands. 

He _was_ in love. 

He was in love with an angel. 

With Aziraphale.

And he had a strange warm feeling in his chest that had been there ever since the Garden of Eden. Oh Satan he’d been in love with Aziraphale all this time? That explained a lot.

For Hell’s sake. What was he supposed to do now? He growled as he snapped open the door to Jacob’s house. Joseph was still wittering on about his dreams and lording over his brothers who had all turned to face him. He shuffled up next to Reuben who he was 90% sure was the eldest brother. 

“Who does he think he is?” Crawley hissed in the man’s ear. His voice was low and almost seductive, impossible to resist. 

“He’s our brother.” The man protested weakly. Oh this was going to be far too easy. “We love him.”

“Not as much as he lovesss himself.” Crawley insisted, feeling the man’s resolve weaken. “You’re the eldest. Where’sss the ressspect?”

“You know… You’re right? I should be the one they bow down to.” Reuben agreed in a dazed voice. 

“That’ss right.” Crawley winked at the bearded man. “Why should Joseph get all the glory?”

Reuben turned around to face the mysterious new comer, but Crawley was gone. His tasked completed, he had decided to get drunk. After all, with Famine on the way one couldn’t be sure there would be enough wine in the next few decades. He might as well enjoy it now. Yes, he was going to get stinking drunk and then have a nap. He hadn’t had a good nap in a few hundred years. Sloth would be most disappointed. 

“Don’t need him anyway. Love is for angels…” The demon muttered as he sauntered away, leaving Joseph to his brothers’ brewing sinister plans. 

* * *

**33 AD**

Crowley hadn’t avoided Aziraphale for over a millennium. That would have just been rude. It’s not like she could feel the angel’s presence and run fast in the opposite direction. It’s not like every time she had turned away, her body felt like it was going to burn up and she definitely wasn’t pining. She was just keeping a professional distance. They worked more efficiently when they weren’t cancelling each other out so it was better for both of them. 

Also Crowley was going by Crowley now, she made sure to tell Aziraphale. She didn’t like Crawley, if she was honest she’d never felt particularly comfortable with her satan-given name. 

Also Crowley had decided that she wanted to present as female. She liked change. Change suited her very well indeed. Not to mention that it made seduction temptations easier, human men were really so stupid. The only drawback was the lack of control it gave Crowley, human females were seen as inferior to their male counterparts. Still the clothes were nicer and she always had preferred longer hair. Aziraphale didn’t bat an eyelid at Crowley’s new feminine figure. Angels and demons were know for their fluidity. Most chose a gender to present as on Earth purely because it made the humans feel more comfortable.

Crowley had decided to end her self-enforced isolation from Aziraphale when she had heard that they were going to crucify ‘the son of God’. Crowley wasn’t quite sure that she believed the man’s heritage but the angel had turned up at the crucifixion so Crowley thought it was only right to check up on her friend. She just needed to squash the pesky feelings. An angel could never love a demon so it was better to just forget about it all. 

“What was it he said that got everyone so upset again?” Crowley asked the angel who stood stoically by her side, muttering prayers under his breath.

“Be kind to each other.” Aziraphale admitted sadly. Crowley wanted shelter the angel under her wings. The grief coming from the angel was almost unbearable. He tried so hard to make the world a better place and the humans just kept messing it up without Crowley even trying. She’d started taking credit for the worst of it just to make the angel feel better, and to keep her superiors off her back. 

“Yeah.” She sighed. “That’ll do it.” She reached out with her aura towards Aziraphale, surrounding him with a blanket of reassurance and love. With any luck the angel would just assume the love came from the surrounding people. She hoped. She prayed to Satan. 

They waited together until Jesus’s soul had left his body and ascended to heaven. It was barbaric the amount of time it took, even Death had begun to linger a few hours before he was needed. At some point on the second day Aziraphale’s fingers and brushed against hers and she could feel their wings sheltering each other from the celestial plane. The casual contact sent electricity flying through her veins and she wanted to grab hold on him and never let go, but she didn’t. She brushed her little finger against the angel’s thumb before pulling away ever so slightly. They didn’t speak. It seemed disrespectful to talk, but the angel was reluctant to leave. They didn’t even break for food or drink which was most unlike Aziraphale. They just stood and watched side by side as the humans murdered their own brethren for daring to be kind.

“Well…I guess that’s it then.” Aziraphale was first to break the silence, wiping tears from his eyes. Crowley had to resist capturing the tears in her fingers, she’d seen humans do it a thousands times, wiping away each others tears. It was like some irresistible instinct found in soulmates, Crowley had slowly come to terms that the angel was, in fact, her soulmate, but angels cried Holy Water. An angel’s tears was the purest form of the toxic substance and Crowley didn’t really feel like the final death today. There was still too much to see on Earth. With a wave of her hand the angel’s tears had disappeared and Aziraphale smiled apologetically up at her; green eyes still shimmering with unfallen tears. 

“Oh I’m sure he’ll be back.” Crowley hummed. “Humans are really quite persistent.”

“Hmm… quite right.” Aziraphale nodded sadly

“Did you want to…”

“Shall we…”

They spoke together, both trailing off and staring awkwardly at the ground. Crowley wanted to laugh. How did her angel still manage to take her off guard after 4000 years? Aziraphale was a puzzle that she never wanted to stop exploring. 

“You first.” Aziraphale said with a wave of his hand.

Crowley cleared her throat and brushed her hair behind her ear. “Right. Did you want to get some lunch, angel?”

“Are you trying to tempt me?” Aziraphale pouted, looking a little put out by the idea. Crowley knew that she should say yes. It would be a perfect excuse if Hastur or Ligur ever decided to check up on her but she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“Not this time angel, purely social.” Crowley smiled at her friend, for that was what they were. 

“Social? I don’t think _they_ would be very pleased with that.” Azirphale glanced upwards.

“But…” Crowley interrupted the angel, rolling her eyes. “I do plan on tempting a local priest. It would be a shame if someone stopped me….” She trailed off and her angel’s face lit up. 

“Oh well. When you put it like that. I guess I am feeling a little peckish.” Aziraphale wiggled his shoulders happily and beamed at Crowley. 

“Come along then, angel. Whatever you fancy, you shall have.” Crowley winked at the Aziraphale, delighting in the flustered expression on the angel’s face. 

Aziraphale muttered something inaudibly under his breath and Crowley’s soul flared with heat, embarrassment and something not too dissimilar to love. 

“What was that, angel?” Crowley teased as she bumped shoulders with the angel. 

“Oh nothing. Come along, wouldn’t want to dawdle.” Aziraphale mumbled but stormed ahead leaving Crowley wondering what in Hell he had said that had caused such a reaction. She smiled dopily at her angel and then followed behind him, a careful distance away in case any immortal beings were watching them too closely. 

What Aziraphale had said, that Crowley did not hear, was that what Aziraphale really fancied was, in fact, Crowley. The words ‘I fancy you’ had slipped out and startled the angel so profusely that he could barely look at the demon. The angel was currently having a bit of a crisis. He liked the demon, but he couldn’t _like_ a demon. He was convinced he would Fall, with a capital ‘F’, for even considering those thoughts. He comforted himself by telling himself that his friend, no _enemy,_ was just tempting him. That he was thwarting her just by resisting her wily ways and that the Almighty would always be there to guide him according to her ineffable plan.

The Almighty, on their part, was growing evermore frustrated by the two soulmates. How could anyone be quite so oblivious they would never know. Still, the angel and demon were now taking the next step towards their own destiny and dining together socially for the first time. That was progress they supposed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! Hurtling through time towards the apocalypse that wasn't. Let me know what you think! I am having the time of my life whilst writing this and I hope that you can share some of that joy by reading it. This show has been a real blessing and the fandom is so pure. 
> 
> See you next time!


	4. Who needs friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this is apparently not even a short story anymore to be wrapped up in a few chapters. I never meant to go through all their history... and yet? 
> 
> Oops...
> 
> Anyway! I hope you enjoy!

**41 AD**

Aziraphale made his way through the streets of Rome. The cobbled roads were burning hot even through his sandals but at least the togas were light and airy. He felt unusually tired as he wandered aimlessly, humming under his breath. He paused as he realised what he was singing and scowled down his nose as if he could glare at his own soul. He wasn’t in the mood for music. No matter what humans and demons may think, even angels have their limit when it came to music. He’d thought it had been a grand idea at first to use celestial musicality to influence Nero, a young boy who had caught Michael’s attention. He was swiftly starting to regret his decision. 

Humans over the last few millennia had latched onto the idea of soulmates, like it was going out of fashion. It had been romanticised beyond belief and, at times, manipulated into something more sinister. There were certain factions of humans that recorded ‘soul songs’ on dirty manuscript and sold them in the black market with the details of their owners. The more nefarious types would then trick their victims into thinking they had met their soulmate and normally extorted some form of money from the poor innocent human who just believed in love. It was really quite devastating and it was draining the angel more than he thought was possible. Maybe he should try the napping thing that Crowley was so fond of…

His thoughts morphed, unwittingly and seamlessly to the demon in question. Their last meeting had ended so perfectly. They’d had dinner! It was really simply quite marvellous and Crowley hadn’t tempted the Priest like she had suggested she was going to do, which was excellent, and they were able to enjoy their meal in peace. Well Aziraphale did, Crowley just sort of stared at him instead. It had filled Aziraphale with a nice warm fuzzy feeling. The restaurant he had chosen had been full of soulmates and love had permeated the air which made the angel feel soft.

What Aziraphale didn’t realise is that he couldn’t feel the love from the surrounding soulmate groups and couples, not because it wasn’t there, rather that it had been eclipsed by the love radiating from the demon next to him. A bit like how the moon was known to block out the light from the sun, plunging everything into darkness. Although in this case it was more like the sun had grown so bright that it rendered every other light source irrelevant. 

He had started singing softly again as he followed his feet down through the streets, searching for something. He wasn’t sure what it was he was searching for, or maybe he was but he wasn’t ready to admit it. Before 8 years ago it had been over a millennium since he had last seen Crowley which was obviously _not_ a problem. He’d even managed to popup to Heaven. It hadn’t changed much at all since he’d been away, not like the ever-revolving planet that he had learned to call home. He had been almost shocked by the long empty halls and sterile rooms. He longed for the Heaven he knew before the great war, where angels and demons lived in peace as there were only angels then, where songs filled the holy realm and plants grew along pillars and water glistened in the bright light but the Heaven he knew was gone. There were times now that Earth seemed more familiar to him than Heaven, not that he would ever admit it, not even to himself. 

He wondered if Crowley remembered Heaven, his Heaven. He wondered how her long flowing hair would have looked glistening in the blessed light, and white wings! Goodness gracious that must have been a stunning sight indeed. Aziraphale sighed. He deeply regretted not knowing his demon then. They might have actually been friends. They couldn’t be friends now, not with Heaven and Hell breathing down their necks. 

He ambled into a bar. Maybe they would still be serving food! His stomach growled hungrily at the thought. He had to look after his human body and food was just one of the ways to do that, not entirely necessary but it was good for the soul. 

Someone was singing by the bar. 

His heart felt like it was flying out of his chest. 

“Crowley.” He grinned and made his way towards the bar. He had to make sure she wasn’t up to no good after all. 

He took in the demon’s appearance. Her hair was short and curly, much like the current Roman trends and she wore a dark toga, in stark contrast to his vibrant white one. It reminded him of their first meeting in Eden. Something seemed different about Crowley, he touched the demon’s aura gently with his own just to make sure, yes quite. Crowley was presenting as male again, in a very feminine and Crowley type manner.

Aziraphale wondered for a moment whether he should try changing his presentation. Angels were naturally sexless but Aziraphale had presented as male for as long as he had existed on Earth. It simply hadn’t occurred to him to change his form or gender. Perhaps he would one day, Crowley seemed to enjoy the flexibility of their immortal bodies. Aziraphale knew that he was always a little more resistant to change. He didn’t ask questions. He just did what he was told and he tried to do the right thing. He was an angel after all and asking questions was a dangerous thing to do for an angel. He tucked the thought away to ponder on another day. For now he wanted to speak to an old fr… enemy. 

Crowley hadn’t seemed to have noticed him approaching, he was nursing a jug of wine that smelled… questionable, far below the demon’s usual taste in wine. Aziraphale snapped his fingers wordlessly as he approached the bar, vastly improving the demon’s choice in drink. Crowley took a long sip from the jug and almost choked in surprise. He twisted round in a flash and faced Aziraphale with a stunned expression on his face.

“I. Wah. How… umm… Hi.” He spluttered, wine dripping down his chin in a way that made Aziraphale want to reach out and brush the red droplets away with his finger. He stayed still, hands clasped tightly in front of him to ensure that they didn’t give him away. 

“Crowley?” Aziraphale feigned surprise. “Fancy running into you here!” He beamed at the demon. As a being of love, it was only right that he was at least kind to all living souls, and smiling at one’s adversary was a great show of mercy and kindness. That is at least what he told himself to make him feel better about the warmth that flowed inside him like fire, maybe even hellfire. 

Crowley, now that he was over the surprise of seeing Aziraphale in the small bar in the middle of Rome, scowled at his drink. Demon’s loved to scowl. It was wrathful and spread fear across the land. He said nothing which Aziraphale found most off-putting so he tried small talk. It was a human thing where you talked about… well… nothing? Just conversation for conversation’s sake. He didn’t know why but it was very important that he had a conversation with Crowley. He presumed it was seeing the only face that had been consistent over the last 4 millennia, yes that must be it. Familiarity was comforting in an ever-changing world.

“Still a demon, then?” Were the first ones that came out of his mouth. Crowley turned to him in utter bewilderment, and rightfully so. It had been a rather idiotic question. Perhaps there was a small, but really large, part of him that hoped Crowley might be an angel. It would make a lot of unsaid things and feelings a lot easier. Rage flared in his chest, rage that certainly did not belong to him, embarrassment maybe but not Wrath. 

“What kind of a stupid question is that? ‘Still a demon?’ What else am I going to be? An aardvark?” Crowley spat out bitterly. 

Aziraphale had a brief flashback to their time on the Ark together. Noah had once walked below deck when Aziraphale had been idly chatting with Crowley about something rather unimportant, he’d forgotten the topic but Crowley had been there in his human form, wings and all. They hadn’t heard Noah make his way down the wooden steps and Crowley had squeaked in surprise when the old human’s thundering voice had echoed over the noise of the animals, and turned into a duplicate of the nearest creature to blend in. It just so happened to be an aardvark. Aziraphale giggled at the memory and glanced away from Crowley’s glower for barely a second before looking back.

Aziraphale suddenly noticed the demon was wearing sunglasses. He was hiding his eyes, how strange. Perhaps it was for the same reason that Crowley had decided to hide his wings from the humans. Aziraphale pouted, he found he rather liked looking into Crowley’s serpentine eyes. They were the most peculiar shade of amber and he’d never seen anything quite like it. It was like looking into Crowley’s soul which of course made it much easier to keep one step ahead of the demon. The advantage was imperative in their fight of good and evil. He tried not to think of the other, more obvious, reason as to why he might like to gaze into Crowley’s eyes.

“Just trying to make conversation.” He wrung his hands nervously, wondering what Gabriel might have to say if he caught them here together; best not to think about it. 

“Well, don’t” Crowley muttered darkly. 

Aziraphale felt a strange wave of pain hit him. He was positive that it was coming from the demon. He could try to heal Crowley but he wasn’t entirely sure what effect that might have on an occult being. It could very well do more harm than damage. He staggered backwards at the impact of phantom pain. It seared through his heart and deep into his soul. He squeezed his eyes shut and took an unnecessary breath, mostly instinctive from his human shaped body. Crowley either didn’t notice the change in Aziraphale or he didn’t care, but Aziraphale didn’t mind. It gave him a chance to stabilise. After a few deep breaths he managed to accommodate the overwhelming pain in his heart and he sat down next to Crowley, looking a little paler than he had when he entered the bar. 

He began to sing softly under his breath. 

Crowley obviously wasn’t in the mood for conversation but Aziraphale couldn’t leave him, not when he was feeling so wretched. So he sang their song and after a couple of bars of the familiar melody, Crowley joined in. Crowley’s voice sang a melody above his, it wasn’t entirely the same but the notes blended together flawlessly and effortlessly without the use of miracles, demonic or angelic. Whenever Aziraphale changed his melody to align with how he felt in that moment, Crowley matched him without hesitation, as if he had always known where Aziraphale would go. As their song flowed sweeter than honey through the air, woven together by the angel and the demon as if it it were the purest silk, the pain in Aziraphale’s chest began to ease. Crowley’s stiff shoulders relaxed and he almost melted off the bar stool he was draped over. 

Eventually their song faded into a comfortable silence, the tension was thick between them, neither ready to acknowledge what had just passed between them. Aziraphale wasn’t entirely sure he understood. The song inside his head had gotten so loud that it was causing him a headache and he’d been helpless to ignore it’s call, and so he had sung. Crowley had probably taken pity on him and joined in so he wasn’t completely alone. That was the only logical explanation, his demon was known to be nice occasionally as long as Aziraphale never mentioned it. He sighed and looked down at his hands. His finger tips were covered in calluses from the hours and hours and hours he’d spent playing the lyre with Nero. He frowned. It would be very vain and selfish to use a miracle to heal his battered hands but he really did pride himself on having soft hands. He was soft. He was an angel after all. 

He squeaked in surprise when Crowley’s hands covered his own, for just a moment, and heat burnt through his finger tips. When the demon realised his hands, the calluses were gone and he had a rather perfect manicure to top it off. He was about to thank his friend when Crowley hissed under his breath, better not mention it then. He smiled brightly to himself and glanced up Crowley. The demon was staring at his jug of wine intently but there was a faint blush colouring his sharp cheekbones. Aziraphale desperately wished he would take his godforsaken sunglasses off so he could see what the demon was thinking. Perhaps it was safer this way, for both of them.

* * *

**537AD**

Aziraphale was angry.

It was an unusual feeling for the angel and he found it quite discouraging. Crowley was being absurd even for a demon. 

Working together?

It was absolutely insane and Michael would have his wings for it and what would happen to Crowley if Hell found out? It’s not like the demon could fall from Hell, and Heaven wasn’t likely to take him back, not after all the trouble he’d caused on Earth. No, the idea was completely mad. There was nothing else for it, Aziraphale was going to have to stop their more social meetings and completely separate himself from the demon. There were lines that were beginning to blur and whilst Aziraphale was certain he’d been walking the line between Falling and not Falling for quite some time, any sort of Arrangement between them would be the end for him. 

It wasn’t the Fall that scared him.

The fact that it _didn’t_ scare him absolutely terrified him.

He had faith in his God, he believed in her ineffable plan and he believed that when the time came then Good would triumph over Evil. What he wasn’t convinced about was Heaven’s way of enacting the ineffability. He’d spent a couple of decades back in Heaven at the turn of the century, teaching young angels about Earth and Humanity. He’d enjoyed the teaching but he’d soon grown rather homesick and he’d practically begged to be sent back to Earth. No one knew Earth like he did and no one knew _Crowley_ like he did. He was the only angel capable of successfully thwarting his demon and he just knew it. Uriel, his replacement, had been eager to return back to Heaven and so he had returned to Earth, just in time to stop Crowley from corrupting Arthur’s soul too, but what Aziraphale had witnessed upstairs had been almost barbaric.

They were building an army of angels. 

Gone were the celestial choirs and star makers. 

Nowadays, it was all about the souls they stole from Hell’s grasp, the reports, the statistics and training from the start. Aziraphale barely remembered his creation but he’d only picked up his sword when Lucifer Fell and his hands had trembled every second the blade was in his grasp. He’d fought well and he’d been rewarded, promoted to principality. By the time Earth had been created the sword was almost an extension of himself and it now burst into flames at his command. 

No, No, No. He mustn’t question it. Good must triumph over Evil, and Heaven was doing what was necessary to win. They had to win. 

It was ineffable. 

Aziraphale screamed and threw his helmet across his stone walled bedroom. It clattered against the wall and fell to the ground with a crash. He had almost certainly dented it but it was nothing a minor miracle wouldn’t fix. Although, he probably didn’t need the cursed thing now anyway. Arthur belonged to Heaven and Crowley had buggered off to make trouble elsewhere. Aziraphale had no reason to stay. 

“For Heaven’s sake!” He sank to the floor and buried his face in his hands. Why did he always have to feel so empty whenever Crowley disappeared? It just wasn’t fair! How was he supposed to resist the demon’s temptations when he felt so alive in his presence? The Almighty was testing him, he was sure of it and the temptation was so sweet, forbidden like the apples in Eden.

It was quite poetic. He could at least appreciate that. 

But if Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate was to give in to the temptation of the Serpent of Eden then Humanity would surely fall.

He sighed again and closed his eyes. His heart was throbbing in his chest. “Why me?” He asked aloud. “Why _him_?” 

“Sir Aziraphale?” Merlin poked his head around the corner of his door. He was a skinny lad with a mop of dark brown hair. On first glance one might assume he was nothing special, he certainly looked it, but Aziraphale knew better. He was an ethereal being after all and he could recognise another immortal in an instant. What was curious about the boy was that he hadn’t seemed to realise his own potential. He performed minor incantations to protect Arthur but always out of sight. He had no idea about the true extent of his powers. Aziraphale was able to hide his own nature from the boy which really shouldn’t have been possible. Perhaps one day they would meet again and talk as equals. “The King is requesting your presence in the banquet hall.”

“Yes yes. Of course.” Aziraphale waved his hands and nodded at the young warlock as he scrambled to his feet.

“I don’t want to overstep…” Merlin started to ask hesitantly.

“Go on, young man, it’s quite all right.” Aziraphale gestured for him to continue.

“The Black Knight.” Merlin paused. Aziraphale straightened his back, standing a little taller than before.

“Yes.” Aziraphale wished he still had his helmet on to hide the blush that was creeping over his cheek bones. 

“You knew him didn’t you?” Merlin’s eyes were kind and Aziraphale had the urge to trust him. This warlock was no demon and no agent of Heaven. It was possible that they may have a chance to become friends if the boy really was an immortal. So the angel let his guard down for the first time since the creation of the Earth.

“We’re umm… Sort of… Colleagues? Of sorts… I guess you could say we’re friends, my oldest friend. He’s… well… he’s dear to me.” Aziraphale found that once he started to talk, he couldn’t stop. He’d never even admitted this to himself let alone to anyone else. He’d always been afraid that Heaven would be listening. His heart skipped a beat, perhaps they still were. “But it has to stop. We can’t be friends. I don’t want to be friends anymore.” 

His heart lurched in his chest. The truth of that last statement hit him hard. He didn’t want to be friends with Crowley anymore. He wanted… 

He _wanted._

Dear lord it was indescribable but he could never act on whatever this feeling was. He had to stop it now. He had to regain some resemblance of control. 

“I know the feeling.” Merlin smiled sadly at him. “Come on, Arthur will wonder where we’ve both got to at this rate.”

Aziraphale followed Merlin through the halls of the castle. Camelot was a strange little place, absolutely brimming with magic the likes of which Aziraphale had never seen before in all his 4000 years on Earth and yet it was absolutely forbidden. Even still the very walls of the castle seemed to hum with magical energy, and Aziraphale wondered if the whole phenomena was caused by the boy in front of him. He did seem to be the source. 

Aziraphale felt a pull in his soul that startled him. He blinked, stopped still for a heartbeat and then ran. He almost knocked Merlin out of the way and he had to focus harder than normal to stop his wings from bursting free. 

“Sir Aziraphale!” The young warlock called after him but Aziraphale couldn’t answer. It was too important. 

He burst through the doors of the banquet hall. The musicians were playing a jolly tune that meant absolutely nothing to him but couples were dancing and laughing together without a care in the world. His eyes scanned the room, searching frantically for red hair and sunglasses. 

“Hello, angel.” Crowley drawled from behind him. 

Aziraphale spun round and beamed at his demon. Crowley’s hair was down to his shoulders. It had a gentle wave and shone brightly in the candlelight. There was a small braid that weaved around the side of his head, pulling some of the fiery locks away from his face. His eyes were hidden behind dark glasses and he was dressed head to toe in black as usual. Aziraphale took a deep breath and it felt like oxygen was hitting his lungs for the first time since he’d stormed away from Crowley in the damp field, not that he needed oxygen but it was more comfortable. He tore his eyes away from the demon, glancing out the windows of the castle. 

“Crowley.” He replied primly, forcing any tenderness from his voice. The Almighty and his superiors could not know about his feelings. It was not angel like to have feelings for a demon.

“I didn’t mean it.” Crowley blurted out. “The arrangement. I didn’t mean it!” 

“Obviously.” Aziraphale nodded. “I wouldn’t be able to help even if I wanted to which I don’t. I can’t just let bad things happen and anyway an angel can’t perform temptations.” 

“Why not?” Crowley raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. His hips swayed to one side as he put a hand on his hip.

“Why not?!” Aziraphale spluttered. “Because… well… It’s not _good_!” 

“And miracles aren’t evil but I can still do those.” Crowley retorted mockingly, Aziraphale got the feeling that the demon was rolling his eyes at him behind his glasses. 

“Oh…” Aziraphale said quietly. Gabriel had always taught them that demons had lost that power but Aziraphale should have known better. He’d seen Crowley’s miracles! The demon had shared the unicorn’s pain with him, he had healed his hands in Rome. 

“We aren’t so different you and I.” Crowley implored.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale admonished in a whisper. “You cannot say that.”

“Why not? Afraid angel?” Crowley chuckled.

“No. Not of you.” He glanced upwards and sighed. “Look. We can’t do this anymore Crowley. You’re right. There’s no point cancelling each other out. We’ll just have to go to different areas, work separately.”

“That’sss not what I meant angel.” Crowley turned away. “Who’sss going to thwart me if you’re not there?”

Aziraphale’s heart was pounding in his chest. He felt like he was on fire. Oh dear lord he was going to Fall!

Maybe Crowley would be there to catch him… 

It wouldn’t be so bad if he were.

“I’m… sorry Crowley.” He managed to say as he throat choked up. “It’s safer this way!” 

Aziraphale all but fled the banquet hall. Arthur didn’t need him anyway. The king had Merlin.

But who did Aziraphale have?

No one. 

Heaven had all but abandoned him on Earth. No one ever bothered to really check up on him. He saw the odd angel around but mostly they worked alone on Earth. The only friend he had had for 4000 years was supposed to be his enemy.

Once he reached the courtyard he spread his wings and flew high into the sky. The stars sparkled in the sky as if they were reaching out to him as he flew. He could almost hear the songs they sang all the way across the universe. They were sad and beautiful. They sang of lost love and unrequited desires. 

Aziraphale’s tears fell down onto the planet below. Where they landed flowers bloomed on the Earth, beautiful dark red roses that, should anyone pick them, would last a thousand years.

* * *

The Almighty was starting to wonder if the game she was playing was too hard on the pair of immortal idiots. She’d made _soulmates_. Their souls were literally entwined, they could feel each other’s deepest desires, so why were they still fighting it? These two were supposed to bring Heaven and Hell back together, to show them they could work as one. No wonder it was written that the Earth would last 6000 years. It seemed like it really would take that long. She needed a new plan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! Trying to time this right so Aziraphale's chapter will be the church... I think it will work out right. If not I can always add an extra section :D I kind of want to do Regency gals but we shall see. Hope you liked it. If not... well... I enjoyed writing it! I love soulmates. Even if they are oblivious.


	5. All the World's a Stage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rushed this a little to get it out before my holiday but I hope you like it! Let's play the what even is gender game? This fic has been such a joy to write. It's been great to explore the gender spectrum through these characters and it's been so much fun to finally write a soulmate fic! So hopefully you wonderful people can share this joy with me :D

**1067 AD**

Crowley swirled the deep rich red wine around in her goblet. She found luxury suited her well and what could be more luxurious than being a member of the King’s court. Her work in the Battle of Hastings had been a stroke of genius, a small suggestion that Edward named Harold as his successor and everything else fell into place. The scale of the war was unfortunate but Crowley probably should have noticed the redhead whispering into the ears of William, she really was vile. What Crowley was most proud of were the aftereffects. The English language was now irrevocably changed, spellings that weren’t quite French and not quite English that would baffle generations forevermore spreading tiny amounts of Wrath and tarnishing their souls. 

Oh and the tapestry was really a work of art. 

It had been her idea of course, eliciting a little Pride from the King making him obsessed with the idea of immortalising his victory in something so much greater than a simple portrait or book. It rather reminded her of the Egyptian hieroglyphics that had faded out of use sometime ago. Aziraphale had rather enjoyed the imaginative picture writing, and maybe, just maybe, Crowley was trying to send a message to her angelic counterpart. She missed Aziraphale, she always did the moment he flew away and it did always seem to be the angel that walked away. 

Not that that mattered. The angel was not here and so the tapestry served a higher purpose. Crowley was watching the artist sketch out the scenes that would feature in the tapestry. There were currently 62 scenes that would feature in the finished piece. Crowley sipped her wine and waved a hand over the sketch, 4 scenes vanished into thin air leaving the story incomplete in the most mysterious manner. She scowled and waved her hand again, the writing that accompanied the pictures followed the missing scenes into the void. She smirked and finished the rest of her wine. This would confuse historians for years to come, countless students would be tearing their hair out studying the tapestry. It was perfect.

She sighed and rolled her head back so it rested on the back of her chair. Her dark glasses were knocked crooked by the action but she didn’t correct them. The artist was fussing over his sketch wondering what in the Hell had just happened and she rolled her eyes, humans were so delicate. She smoothed down the skirt of her dress and got up. Her goblet was empty and she wasn’t nearly drunk enough. The King was expecting her to dine with him tonight and she really didn’t want to eat. She’d probably just fake a headache and go to sleep. Her silk sheets were simply glorious. She could have slept for a century between those sheets, perhaps she should try it sometime. 

Her footsteps echoed in the empty halls of the castle as she made her way to her room. She would call a servant to bring her wine directly to her room, saved having to go down to the kitchens. The hearty rich smells that came from the kitchens always reminded her of Aziraphale. His love of food was unheard of for an immortal being, especially angels, and he was known to write literal poetry about some of his favourite dishes. It was intoxicating to watch him eat, the way he hummed happily as the flavours washed over his tongue, the way he couldn’t help but close his eyes in pleasure, the deliriously happy waves of energy that radiated from him. He would practically glow with sheer contentment. It was another reason Crowley found dining with the King so dull. How could she enjoy anyone else’s company during dinner when she had known Aziraphale? Everyone else seemed just so mundane. 

She snapped her finger at a passing servant and he spun round on his feet to head back to the kitchens. Crowley paused as her chest tightened. Her hand gripped at the fabric of her gown over her heart.

Aziraphale.

The door to her room flung open as she approached it and bolted loudly behind her as she swished into the room. Aziraphale was sitting on her bed, his wings fluttering softly behind him. The window was open and the drapes were blowing in the wind. Crowley glared at them and the window flung itself shut so that Crowley could turn her attention to her angel who was basically vibrating with nervous energy. 

Aziraphale’s hair had grown longer in the last 500 years which surprised Crowley. She had never seen the angel with any other hairstyle than his normal short white blond mop of hair, the gentle fluffy curls that Crowley wanted the run her fingers through. The sandy white strands now fell in gloriously messy curls down past the angel’s shoulders. There was a single braid wrapped around the side of angels head with strands of gold woven into the lock of hair and he… or maybe she… wore a brilliant white night gown. 

“Aziraphale…” Crowley breathed softly in awe of the angel’s new look. “You look… good.” Stunning, beautiful, divine…

“Well, I am an angel.” Aziraphale laughed and the feathers in her wings seemed to shine even brighter. 

“Hmm… yeah. Good.” Crowley murmured distracted by the light bouncing off the angel’s hair. It had been so long since they’d been together. Since Aziraphale had run away from her and broken her heart. 500 years was a long time, even for immortals.

Crowley reached out to Aziraphale to catch a lock of the angel’s hair in her hands. It was as soft as she had always imagined and it sparkled brighter than any star she had ever created. Crowley’s chest felt like it was going to explode with the love that was filling her heart. 

“I’m sorry my dear.” Aziraphale covered Crowley’s hand with hers and a spark crackled between them at the touch. Crowley’s eyes filled with tears as she was overwhelmed with the feelings in her heart. She pushed back bitterly and threw up a wall between them, yanking her hand away from Aziraphale’s hair.

“So what brings you here, angel?” Crowley forced a smiled, curling her lips over her teeth exposing the ever so slightly fang like canines. They got more pointy under stress and this was blessed stressful situation. It was like Satan himself was testing her. Crowley decided to do what she did best and completely ignore the elephant in the room. She ignored Aziraphale’s apology, brushing it off like dust off a bookshelf, and initiated their usual routine. 

“Oh umm… well funny story.” Aziraphale chuckled nervously, glancing out the window and then back to Crowley. Her fingers were gripping the silk sheets of Crowley’s bed like she was afraid to let go. “I was in town for an intervention, some Priest was starting to stray from Her you see. So I was supposed to turn up all… well… like this” She gestured to her wings. “Not my actual true form but what the humans think is my true form, and remind him of Her love.”

Aziraphale told her story vibrantly and animatedly. It was so enchanting that Crowley hadn’t noticed she had closed the gap between them, they were now mere inches apart and Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s breath against her skin. Crowley trailed her fingers down Aziraphale’s soft white wings, as usual they were a complete mess. It was like the angel didn’t understand the concept of basic grooming. She remembered the day she had realised she loved the angel. Aziraphale had allowed her, for just a few precious seconds to pluck out the loose feathers. It was an act that was so undeniably intimate, only between the closest of friends in Heaven and never in Hell. Crowley hadn’t even been thinking about it at the time but she’d given it plenty of thought since. 

Aziraphale shivered at her touch and Crowley felt a wave of desire wash over her. Satan, she wished she could kiss the angel. Her beautiful soft pink lips were enticing and her long soft hair was cascading over her breasts like a waterfall of the holiest light. It would be so easy to lean down and capture the angel’s lips with her own. Crowley huffed a laugh, she thought that she was supposed to be the temptation, and yet it was always Aziraphale that was the greater temptation. 

“That’s very noble of you.” She murmured, distracted by the softness of the feathers under her fingers. Crowley could feel the burning heat of angelic holiness simmering under the feathers. It was never enough to hurt her, not in this form, but it was a stark reminder of their differences. 

“Yes yes… well… It should have been. You see I spent, it must have been almost a year, visiting the priest. He turned back to Her path very quickly after my first visit and I got the most lovely thank you card from Gabriel, but that’s not the point!” Aziraphale did that annoying little thing where she glanced away for barely a second before looking up through her eyelashes at the demon. It drove Crowley insane. It was like the angel couldn’t bare to look at her but also couldn’t look away. Crowley wanted to take the angel’s face in her hands and not let go, force the angel to really see her for who she is.

“The point?” Crowley raised her eyebrow and pulled her glasses to the bridge of her nose so the angel could see her eyes. 

“The point is that I reversed it. The priest was utterly miserable! He’d given up everything he enjoyed because he thought that that was what She intended, that to be good you had to give up on everything that is pleasurable. I couldn’t just stand around and let him spend his finite life being miserable. What sort of angel would that make me?” Aziraphale covered her face with her hands and groaned. 

Crowley sat down next to Aziraphale on the bed. She released her own wings with a deep breath. The tightness coiled in her chest released with the explosion of black feathers and she closed her eyes as she revelled in the freedom. Their wings brushed up against each other which cause a shiver to pass down Crowley’s spine. She had forgotten how it felt to be so close to another immortal.

“And how does one reverse an angelic intervention?” Crowley asked with a laugh because she knew the answer. It was her domain after all. 

“Please don’t make me say it.” The angel pleaded. Aziraphale was still a delightful rose pink colour. She looked like the cherubs that artists so loved to paint. It made Crowley stomach flip and her heart race in her chest. 

“Ok, angel.” Crowley raised her wings to cover Aziraphale. The guilt was falling off the angel like water breaking through a dam. Crowley didn’t need to know the details but her angel had performed a temptation. She’d done the devil’s work and miraculously she hadn’t Fallen. 

“He got married last week. His wife is already expecting.” Aziraphale murmured as she leaned into Crowley’s side. Crowley froze, too afraid that any movement would scare her angel away. What she really wanted was to braid Aziraphale’s long flowing hair and help tidy up her wings. It just could not be comfortable with all those loose feathers sticking out all over the place. 

“Hmm…” Crowley answered as words seemed to leave her head faster than she could snap her fingers. 

“I was thinking…” Aziraphale hesitated. 

“Dangerous stuff.” Crowley couldn’t help herself, she was a demon! It earned her a disparaging glare from her angel and she smirked in response. This felt right. 

“Yes well… I guess, what I’m trying to say is… maybe you were right.” Aziraphale hid her face behind her hair and her wings fluttered anxiously, brushing against Crowley’s and causing the demon to shiver at the touch. 

“Right.” Crowley choked out. 

“We can’t just keep cancelling each other out. It does no favours to anyone and ignoring you isn’t working either.” Aziraphale continued. “It just feels wrong.”

Crowley sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “What exactly are you proposing here, angel?”

“We both get jobs from our head offices right?” Aziraphale wrung her hands together and stared down at her feet.

“Yeah.” Crowley nodded as she pulled off her glasses, the bridge of her nose was starting to ache from the constant pressure. 

“And sometimes it requires us to go to the same area to work directly against each other.” Aziraphale clenched her jaw and closed her eyes. Crowley pushed a wave of reassurance towards the angel and reached out to grab her hand. 

“So what if only one of us goes?” Crowley finished for the angel who she knew couldn’t admit to having the thought aloud. “We could have dinner before hand to decide who goes.” 

“Dinner?” Aziraphale’s heart was filled with joy and excitement that was echoed in Crowley’s own chest. 

“A business arrangement.” Crowley clarified in case any wayward angels or demons were listening in on their conversation. 

“Yes. Quite.” The angel agreed with a small shimmer of disappointment. 

“Like when you stopped me tempting the Priest at Golgotha.” Crowley winked at the angel.

“You said that was purely social!” Aziraphale gaped and blushed prettily. 

“And you said that upstairs wouldn’t like that.” Crowley brushed a strand of Aziraphale’s hair from her face. “This is no different.” 

“Oh… _Oh…_ ” Realisation dawned on the angel and she smiled bashfully. “A business Arrangement. Of course.”

“So…” Crowley paused for dramatic effect, cupping her angel’s face so that her eyes were gazing into Aziraphale’s beautiful sapphire ones. “Dinner, Angel?”

“I thought you would never ask.” Aziraphale beamed like the sun and rested her forehead against Crowley’s. 

If anyone were to walk into the room at that moment they would have seen two immortal beings, one ethereal one occult, sat on the middle of the large extravagant bed with it’s rich silk sheets, glowing. Their wings were wrapped around each other, so that if they weren’t so different in colour, one would struggle to tell where one wing began and another one ended. What was truly incredible were their auras. They had become visible even to those who are not trained to see them. They were glowing brightly in a glitter of gold and silver, permeating the air around them with love and there was music in the air. Neither angel nor demon were singing but their song was filling the air in instruments both divine and demonic. It was so beautiful that if any mortal had witnessed it they would have probably lost their mind and gone quite mad. 

As it were, the two creatures were completely oblivious of the significance of what had just happened. They would continue as they always had, a little closer perhaps and a little less likely to spend any length of time apart, but still denying any actual feelings between them. They went down to dinner with the king, wings tucked safely back into a different plane of existence, and Crowley proudly introducing the royal court to her cousin Zira Fell who had just dropped in for a quite visit to see the progress on the tapestry. 

It was, for all intents and purposes, a new beginning.

* * *

**1601 AD**

Crowley sauntered away from Aziraphale, ignoring the burn in his chest. He was just glad that he didn’t have to go to Edinburgh. He hated Edinburgh and he hated the horse he would have had to have ridden to get to Edinburgh. He hated horses in general for that matter. They were stupid. Aziraphale didn’t need to know that he’d fixed the coin toss but to make up for it he had ensured that a book merchant in the city had just procured a copy of one of those prophecy books the angel was so fond of. 

Now, how to make Hamlet a success. He had promised the angel and couldn’t exactly justify the demonic miracle to fix it. That wouldn’t work at all. He really didn’t need Beelzebub breathing down his neck, not when he was so close to Aziraphale. It would be dangerous for both of them if their respective head offices were to find out they were working so closely. 

He pulled back the gate that would lead him out of the theatre and back onto the streets, but the gate didn’t budge. He hissed and threw his weight forward instead. It had been a stupid idea of his, one way doors. What was wrong with doors that went both ways anyway? It was too late now, the world had cottoned on to his little idea. He sighed and pushed his glasses back up his nose. 

“To be, or not to be, that is the question…” He hissed under his breath. “Careful Hamlet, questions are a dangerous thing.” He pulled nervously at his hair. It was getting unmanageable, he really should cut it soon enough. He felt Aziraphale’s contentment buzzing through his heart as the angel continued to watch the play, the stupidly tragic play. He didn’t understand what was so good about Shakespeare anyway. 

“Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them.” He continued as he gazed out upon the River Thames. He paused, maybe Hamlet was smarter than he thought. After all it was by opposing the sea of troubles in Heaven that had been the end for all the fallen angels. Maybe Aziraphale had a point after all. 

“You’re good at that.” A voice startled Crowley. It was a young boy in a dress and wig who was leaning against the railings, an actor then. Crowley raised an eyebrow at the young boy as he tossed some bread into the river. “You should audition, better than that dud they’ve got playing Hamlet at the moment.”

“Right.” Crowley muttered. 

“Think about it. I’ve gotta get back, my scene’s coming up soon.” The young actor hoisted up his skirt and turned back to the theatre. Crowley stared after him, an idea forming in his head. It would take a miracle to make Hamlet a success… or maybe it would take a better actor, one whose words fell like honey from his lips, entrancing the entire audience, drawing them in like a moth to a flame. 

Crowley waited outside the theatre until the play was over. Aziraphale didn’t see him lurking in the shadows but Crowley felt the angel’s curiosity. He knew that Crowley was still nearby. 

“You’re up to no good, dear boy.” Aziraphale addressed the cool London air. “Shame I have to be in Edinburgh.” The angel smiled and glanced down at his feet as he untied the horse that was waiting for him. “It would be most unfortunate if you were to join me for dinner on my return to London.” Aziraphale scanned the shadows, his dark hazel eyes glittering in the moonlight. His gaze landed on Crowley for just a second before moving on but there was a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest and he knew that Aziraphale had seen him. He smiled fondly at his angel and slunk further into the shadows. 

He waited until Aziraphale had left, a pained look on his face as he rode away which left Crowley with a dull ache in his lower back and bottom. He really did hate horses. Once the angel was out of sight he snuck into the theatre. William was still there, debriefing his actors with a forlorn look upon his face. 

“Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue;” Crowley spoke the words loudly and instantly gained control of the room. Bill fell silent and the actors of the party stared at him in awe. “but if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand,” He flailed his hand out dramatically and winked at the playwright. “thus, but use all _gently_ ;” He whispered the word and paused to let the word hang in the air. “for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, the _whirlwind_ of passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness.” 

There was silence. He smirked at his audience, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Each and every one of them were hanging on his every word. 

“Should I continue?” He glanced to the playwright. 

“No need. I’ve seen enough. You will be here tomorrow morning at dawn. Don’t be late! The rest of you, away!” Bill dismissed his actors with a wave of his hand. Crowley remained, preening at the murmured praise of the passing actors, even Burbage seemed impressed. 

“You asked for a miracle. You got me.” Crowley smirked and turned away from Bill. He slithered back into the shadows from whence he came and left the theatre. There was a tavern stool with his name on it and his butt was aching, a phantom pain from Aziraphale’s trip to Edinburgh. Apparently he couldn’t escape even though he was staying in London, but at least he had dinner to look forward to on the angel’s return and he couldn’t wait to hear about Aziraphale’s new book that he would miraculously find in the Scottish city. 

He smiled fondly as he pictured the beaming grin on Aziraphale’s face when he found the book. He felt of tinge of puzzlement from the angel but he batted it away with a push of amused affection. It wouldn’t do for the angel to discover his plans so quickly. Aziraphale was disappointed but buzzing with excitement. Crowley laughed and shook his head as the stars shone brightly overhead. His angel really was so petulant sometimes, and satan did he love him. 

* * *

**1793 AD**

Crowley was panicking. 

Something was very wrong with Aziraphale. He could feel it in his chest. There was terror, pain and desperation thumping hard in his heart. He just had to get to Paris and find Aziraphale before it was too late. Of course Aziraphale had to be in France during a revolution which made the whole thing a lot harder. 

“Come on!” He hissed at the boat that was sailing far too slowly across the channel for his liking. “You ss _stupid_ thing! You will be fassster!” He glowered at the sail until it was full of wind and the boat lurched forward, speeding through the waves creating a wake behind it. 

What in Heaven was his angel up to? He’d heard rumours that something was afoot in Paris but mostly he had just stayed out of it. Humans were bad enough without his influence. It was an agonising wait as the small boat soared across the waves towards Calais and Crowley was fretting. He morphed into snake form and curled up in the bottom of the ship. It was easier to be in snake form when he was this stressed. He didn’t have to think so much, his mind could go blank and it numbed his connection to his soulmate. 

Luckily for both of them neither Heaven nor Hell had any idea that soulmates were not just a human thing. It would be lethal to both of them in their bosses knew about their bond. Even the animals seemed to have some form of soulmates, some were monogamous like penguins and some preferred big family groups like lions. Angels and demons seemed entirely oblivious to their own soul bonds but Crowley was starting to think that was why so many of both kinds were now cold-hearted bastards. Being separated from Aziraphale was the worst form of torture and he would know. It was likely, Crowley thought, that many soulmates of the immortal kind were separated by the Fall just like he and Aziraphale had been. 

They were lucky they were together on Earth. He wondered how he would have turned out if he’d stayed in Hell away from his soulmate for eternity. He shuddered and coiled up tighter. That was not a nice thought. He hissed sadly to himself and let sleep fall over him like a warm blanket. It was safe to sleep in snake form, he wouldn’t get the nightmares. 

When he woke up the boat was just pulling into Calais. Perfect. Now he just had to find a horse or something to get him to Paris and quickly. He strolled through the docks searching for a ride. His eyes landed on a brilliant dapple grey mare. It was more Aziraphale’s style but it would have to do. The horse whinnied in protest as he hoisted himself onto the mare’s back. 

“Yes yes. I’m a demon. Hiss hiss. Now you _will_ get me to Paris immediately. My angel’s life depends on it!” Crowley hissed at the horse who was steadfastly refusing to move. Crowley flinched as his wrists began to burn. Aziraphale was being held captive then. A strange calmness was coming from the angel like he knew Crowley was on his way, which he probably did. “Stop your complaining. You get to save an angel now move!” Crowley kicked the horse hard and the beast finally galloped off. 

“I’m coming, angel!” He called into the night as he thundered towards Paris. The horse was going faster than any normal horse could, but things like that just seemed to happen to around Crowley and he wasn’t about to start complaining. 

He wondered how he would explain this to Hastur and Ligur. They were due to check up on him much to his disgust. It had been a good 200 years or so since he’d seen the Dukes of Hell. 

“So Crowley, Why did you feel the need to dash across to Paris during a revolution?” Crowley mimicked Hastur’s voice. 

“Ah well you see Duke Hastur… My soulmate…” Crowley answered himself in his usual tone. 

“SOULMATE!” He yelled as Ligur, not as good as his Hastur impression. The horse whinnied in protest at the sudden loud noise but carried on regardless. 

“Yes, my _angelic_ soulmate. You see he got in a spot of bother during the revolution.” Crowley continued with a laugh. This would not go down well in Hell at all.

“So you rescued him?” He responded as Hastur.

“The things one does for love.” He sighed dramatically taking both hands off the mare’s reins. It was a miracle he didn’t fall off the horse. “No no… see that won’t work at all!” He muttered. The horse huffed in agreement. “I need an alibi, a reason to be in France.” He wracked his brains for an answer but he just couldn’t think of anything. 

“Crawley!” Hastur appeared in front of him and Crowley pulled hard on the reins of the horse. He slid backwards off the horse as she reared up to stop herself from ramming straight into the Duke of Hell. 

“Well, speak of the devil.” Crowley muttered under his breath. The panic he felt was his own but he could feel Aziraphale’s curiosity prod him with a soft reassurance. He closed his eyes, inhaled and let the comforting feelings wash over him. When he opened his eyes he felt much more at ease and able to face the demon. “Hastur, hi.” He waved up at the demon from the floor. 

“I don’t know how you did it Crawley.” Hastur spat out bitterly. 

“Crowley.” Crowley insisted narrowing his eyes at the blond. 

“Crowley, commendation for your hellishly bad work in Paris. Don’t make me pin it on, it won’t end well for you.” Hastur’s palm burst into flames, and when the the fire had faded Crowley noticed a small medal resting in the demon’s hand. 

“Commendation?” Crowley asked nonchalantly. What the fuck?

“For the Reign of Terror I believe they’re calling it” Hastur grimaced and dropped the pin into Crowley’s lap. 

“Oh… Oh yes! Of course. Reign of Terror, Revolution in Paris. Lots of Wrath and pain and killing. Murders all _over_ the place!” He grinned nastily at Hastur, luck of the devil indeed. “Took a lot of planning… Yes. Definitely. Couldn’t have managed it without me really. Aren’t I just the worst?” 

“I don’t trust you Crowley.” Hastur sneered. 

“Good.” Crowley sang pleasantly. “Well, wonderful to see you Hastur. Send Beelzebub my hate but I really must be off. Got to check on the progress. Wouldn’t want this lovely medal to go to waste now would we?” 

He pulled himself back onto the horse, who seemed to like him a great deal more than before Hastur’s little intervention, and they were off once more. 

He had an angel to rescue. Hell would freeze over before he let anything happen to his angel. 

“Hold on, angel.” He murmured, hoping he wasn’t too late. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! I broke the pattern and did three time skips in this chapter. I wanted to show them dealing with the arrangement the first time, I couldn't bear to skip the globe and Shakespeare and I needed France to be in Crowley's POV because I needed him to be able to sense Aziraphale was in danger... so... whoop! Extra content for you guys! Hope you liked it. Let me know! See you next time!


	6. But Never Doubt I Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop! So there's a few stolen (borrowed) quotes in this. Mostly from the Bard but also I snuck one in from Pride and Prejudice. Shakespeare ones are from Much Ado about Nothing and Hamlet respectively :) Everything else is my interpretation of events that occur in Episode 3. Hope you like it!

**1865 AD**

Aziraphale’s heart was pounding in his chest. He couldn’t feel Crowley at all, which hadn’t happened for long periods of time since they had started the Arrangement. He had been able to feel the demon was in London and then it was like someone had cut the cord between them. He wasn’t sure what had changed with the Arrangement but ever since that night in Crowley’s bedroom they had been able to sense each other no matter where they were on the planet. It cut off whenever they visited their head offices but this was different though. There was a blank emptiness in his chest that he hadn’t felt in centuries. He wanted to tear his heart out but that would most likely discorporate him and that would not be ideal. The paperwork was unbearable and he wouldn’t be back on Earth for at least a couple of years, more likely a couple of decades. Plus he wasn’t sure what Crowley would think if the connection came back and he was nowhere to be found. The demon would probably end up doing something far too dramatic and a little Shakespearean. That thought was a little too close to home after Crowley’s request for Holy Water. 

“Stupid boy!” He hissed as tears pricked in his eyes. The thought of a world without Crowley was unbearable. Perhaps he should ask for Hellfire in return. Maybe then Crowley would finally understand why he couldn’t just give him a suicide pill. 

Aziraphale had slowly come to terms over the last 800 years that the demon was his soulmate. At least that was what the humans called it, the unique connection between certain humans, mostly couples, although sometimes small groups, that was unbreakable. It was signified by a song that only the soulmates could sing without practice. Not all soul bonds were romantic or sexual. Many were platonic, but Aziraphale had never, since the beginning of the Earth, known hereditary enemies to be soulmates. It was a terrible curse by the the Almighty, probably punishment for his failure in Eden. He could never be with Crowley, they had to hide their tentative friendship as it was. If it weren’t for the fact he was an angel and Crowley was a demon then he was sure they would have been the best of friends. There was not a single soul on Earth or otherwise that Aziraphale would rather spend time with. 

That lead Aziraphale back to his first thought.

Where was Crowley?

And why couldn’t he feel him?

He rather aggressively pulled a chunk of bread from the loaf he was holding and tossed it into the water. The ducks flocked to the bread like moths to a flame and quacked loudly at each other as they all tried to claim the food first. Aziraphale sighed. Crowley loved to feed the ducks, it was one of those little things they always found time for together, little clandestine meetings in the park, pretending they didn’t really know each other as they chatted amicably on a bench. Recently they had noticed MI6 spies had started to pick up on the habit, following suit from the angel and the demon. 

Aziraphale sighed. It had been over 3 years since Crowley had disappeared. His last stint in Hell had been a couple of years and the demon had warned him before he left that it was probably not going to be a quick trip. Apparently he’d been in trouble for something that he would not tell Aziraphale about but the point is… he had warned Aziraphale that he would be going dark. This time was so sudden and Aziraphale had been doing his best to remain calm and stay patient, patience was after all a virtue, but his patience was wearing thin. He had half a mind to go and fetch a new flaming sword from Heaven and storm Hell with every ounce of angelic righteousness that he could muster. He wasn’t sure Gabriel and the others would be best pleased with that idea. They were waiting and preparing for Armageddon and the second Great War. 

Crowley was probably sulking.

Yes that must be it. He wouldn’t just disappear to Hell like that without warning but Aziraphale had to admit they hadn’t parted on the best of terms last time they spoke. They hadn’t argued like that since The Black Death. Crowley had been convinced it was another one of the Almighty’s extinction events like the Flood, which was absolutely tosh of course. Heaven would never send something so horrifying. The Flood at least happened quickly. The nasty plague picked off families one by one and caused more terror than Aziraphale could ever remember seeing. It just had to be one of Hell’s. Crowley denied it of course and had been very offended when Aziraphale had accused him of lying. They hadn’t spoken after that for almost half a century. It was a very painful memory indeed and Aziraphale found he couldn’t miracle quite as well as he could when Crowley was around. The horsemen had delighted in their feud and caused far more havoc than was necessary the entire time. 

Aziraphale flopped down on the bench behind him. His hat toppled back off his head and landed in the mud. 

“Lord give me strength.” He murmured under his breath in exasperation. Today was not going well at all. There was a soft glow that surround his hair for a fleeting moment, filling him with warmth and hope. He smiled gratefully and with a wave of his hand his hat was back in his lap with not a speck of dirt on its soft cream fabric. “Thank you.”

He thought about his options. Crowley was out of reach, that much was obvious. The question was whether he was purposely cutting off the connection or whether he was in trouble. Would he want Aziraphale to try and find him? Crowley had rescued him enough times that Aziraphale thought it was probably his turn but storming Hell was regrettably out. He could try Crowley’s house but he never did like turning up uninvited. It was most impolite. Crowley had no qualms about dropping by whenever he fancied a quick chat or a bottle, or three, of Aziraphale’s wine but he was a demon. 

Aziraphale’s chest throbbed painfully. He closed his eyes tightly and focussed on his breathing. Had it always been so empty without Crowley? He couldn’t ignore it any longer. The last three years had been Aziraphale’s own personal Hell and enough was enough. If Crowley wanted to cut off their bond then that was absolutely fine but Aziraphale needed to know he was ok first. 

He scattered the rest of the bread into the water. He even made sure one of the ducks sank down to the bottom for a few seconds, for Crowley’s sake, before it bobbed back up looking rather confused and a little bit worse for wear. 

“Sorry.” Aziraphale said apologetically. “Needs must I’m afraid.” 

Then he turned and headed towards Mayfair. If Crowley wasn’t at his house then Aziraphale was not sure what he would do. He couldn’t exactly call Heaven for a favour. 

“Ah yes, Hello Gabriel.” He muttered to himself. “Just a quick question. Nothing too important. I just… I seem to have misplaced my, I mean _a_ demon. It wouldn’t be too inconvenient to do a quick search for him would it? Oh no. No reason at all. Just got to make sure he’s not up to no good!” He paused as he crossed the road, making sure he wouldn’t get run down by a nearby carriage. “Of course we’re not fraternising.” He winced at the word. Crowley had not been happy with that term. “He’s my dearest, I mean, _Greatest_ enemy!” 

Aziraphale sighed and ran his hands through his hair. This would not do at all. He heard a ding of a shop bell as he walked briskly through the streets of London. A couple were smiling at each other as the left the shop. Aziraphale could feel their love radiating like a beacon. The two women had linked their arms together and were laughing like they had no care in the world. Society these days told Aziraphale that their soul bond was platonic but he knew better. He could quite literally feel the romance weaving itself around the pair. He could almost see it in their auras, golden bright and beautiful. His soul yearned for Crowley. If they had been born human could they have been in love? Would they have been allowed to be in love? 

Aziraphale chased that thought away. Demons couldn’t love and angels couldn’t love a demon. They were friends and that was enough. He quickly blessed the happy couple and entered the shop. It was a bakery and he was stressed. It wasn’t Gluttony if he had a genuine reason to want food. He would bring some of those nice chocolate eclairs round to Crowley’s. He didn’t enjoy eating them but he did find squishing the box they were in to be particularly satisfying and if were in a good mood he would let Aziraphale eat one first. 

So with pastries in hand, not as good as Paris but they would have to do, he knocked on Crowley’s door. There was no answer. He could feel Crowley’s magic surrounding the building. Any human would have an urge to walk away for no apparent reason. Aziraphale got the sense the wards probably worked just as well on other angels and demons, but Aziraphale felt nothing of the sort. Perhaps his own desire to find Crowley was too strong for the wards to stop him. He knocked again, still no answer. 

He paused. 

Could he break in?

Crowley might be hurt or kidnapped. He had to try something.

His hand glowed as he pushed against the wood. It vanished under his touch and Aziraphale crossed the threshold. He turned around to ensure that the demon’s wards were still intact and then made his way upstairs. 

“Crowley?” He called. His voiced echoed through the empty walls. Crowley had never really understood clutter. His home’s had always been sparse and minimalistic, it reminded Aziraphale a little too much of Heaven for his tastes. His footsteps should have reverberated around the house but if you were to look closely at Aziraphale’s feet you would notice he never quite made contact with the floor, his wings, four of them, were translucent and there was a slight halo of light around his head. The angel had no idea he was projecting his less human form. He was just so focussed on finding his demon that everything else faded away. There was still nothing creeping through the bond even in the flat which he found to be most alarming. 

He floated through the rooms towards the bedroom, hoping desperately that the demon would be within. 

And he was.

There on the middle of the large bed was Crowley. 

His hair had grown out again and was fanned around the demon’s head, oddly enough looking like a halo, albeit a very fiery demonic halo. He looked beautiful. Aziraphale’s breath caught in his throat and he rose a little higher off the ground. 

“Crowley…” He whispered reverently. The name fell off his lips like a prayer, and perhaps it was. The demon did not stir. He was completely unaware of Aziraphale’s presence which was more than a little intoxicating for the angel. Crowley was wearing black silk pyjamas and was sprawled like a starfish on the mattress. He was lying on his stomach with his face smushed into one of his many pillows. His dark sunglasses were crooked on his nose and pushing into his cheek. Aziraphale silently crossed the room and knelt on the floor beside the bed, setting the pastry box down on the floor carefully.

“Oh my darling.” His fingers brushed Crowley’s cheek softly and the bond burst back to life in vibrant colour. It settled in his heart like a pigeon coming home after a long flight. Crowley was exhausted. He could feel the hurt from their last fight bubbling under the service and the betrayal the demon had felt by Aziraphale’s cutting words. “I’m so sorry my dear boy.” 

He tried to push how truly sorry he was through the bond along with reassurance that it would be ok, that they would be ok. His finger tips hummed with energy against Crowley’s cheek and he wanted nothing more than to curl up next to the demon and fall asleep, but he couldn’t do that. Gabriel would come looking for him if he stopped his miracles and blessings all of a sudden. He couldn’t risk their friendship like that. 

“Why did you have to be a demon?” He asked Crowley’s sleeping form. “Oh that’s not fair you stupid angel.” He shook his head and groaned, resting his forehead on the mattress beside the demon. “You’re perfect as you are. I should not have said that.”

He pulled Crowley’s glasses gently off his face and folded them neatly on the bedside table. He was only a little disappointed when Crowley’s golden snake eyes didn’t flutter open to stare at him. Aziraphale liked to imagine the fond smile Crowley would have when he saw Aziraphale watching over him., a demon with a guardian angel. Perhaps, Crowley would reach up and softly kiss him on the lips.

Aziraphale froze.

That was a very unangelic thought indeed. Crowley’s temptations were getting the better of him. He scowled and jumped to his feet. They landed on the floor with a loud thud, and still the demon did not stir. Aziraphale brushed off his waistcoat and stole one last glance at the demon on the bed. He yearned to reach out and brush Crowley’s hair off his face, to place his lips on his forehead and gently kiss him goodbye. 

“Oh goodness gracious me.” Azirphale shoved his hat on his head and fled the room. He had no idea where all these thoughts were coming from but they had to stop. His soul bond with Crowley was platonic at best. It helped them keep the balance of good and evil which benefitted humanity and served the Ineffable Plan but that was as far as it would, and could go. He resisted a final look at the sleeping demon and hurried from the house. He replaced the door with a wave of his hand and added an extra layer of wards to the house. He would check up on Crowley next week to make sure he was safe but no more touching. That was dangerous territory for an angel who was so very lonely indeed. 

Aziraphale took a breath of cool London air. It filled his lungs and washed away the remaining scent of the redhead. He cautiously prodded the soul bond to check it was still intact. Crowley was quiet on the other end but the emptiness and dread had gone. He could still sense his demon and that was enough. He nodded and strode out into the streets. He had work to do, and he should probably throw in a few temptations whilst Crowley was napping. It wouldn’t do for Hell to come searching for answers. 

“I’ll be back soon, dearest.” He murmured to the sleeping demon in the bedroom above him and smiled softly to himself as he hailed a cab. For the first time in three years he felt like he could breathe again. 

As the angel rode away from Crowley’s house, in a carriage that didn’t bounce quite as much as it usually would on the London streets, an ancient song hummed in the air. Other soul songs came and went as humans faded from life but this song was as old as the Earth itself, older even. It formed the basis of hymns and love songs alike. It had become a common motif in almost every Opera or Ballet and no one was quite sure why. To humanity it was the epitome of love.

* * *

**1941 AD**

“Ouch!” Crowley hissed and pulled away from Aziraphale’s hands. 

They were sitting in the backroom of Aziraphale’s bookshop. A heavy bag of prophetic books lay discarded in the corner, discarded but not forgotten. Aziraphale couldn’t help but keep glancing at the bag. It was like they were taunting him.

_You love him_

_You love him_

_You love him_

Aziraphale tore his gaze away from the offending bag and back to the object of his desire. Crowley’s hat had fallen on the floor and his limbs were going in every direction as he sprawled out in one of Aziraphale’s armchairs. His snakeskin shoes and soft black cotton socks were tossed into a corner. His feet had been resting quite wonderfully in Aziraphale’s lap but like a wounded animal he didn’t seem to understand that Aziraphale was just trying to help. 

Aziraphale tutted at the demon and thrust a bottle of scotch into his hands. The demon took the bottle greedily and yanked the lid off with his teeth which caused Aziraphale’s brain to short-circuit. He swallowed nervously and shook his head. Nasty lusty thoughts did not belong to an angel, but it was too late. Crowley had felt it the second the thought had crossed his mind. He grinned and winked at Aziraphale. 

“Something on your mind, angel?” He smirked and licked his lips in a rather irresistible fashion. Aziraphale glared at his companion and grabbed the demon’s burnt feet, pulling them back towards him with more force than necessary. Crowley whined and hissed in pain. 

“You stupid boy!” Aziraphale chided. “A church Crowley? Honestly what were you thinking?” His hands closed around the burns on the soles of his feet. His fingers glowed as he focussed on healing the damaged flesh. 

“Oh yeah. I’m soooo sorry. I’ll just let you get shot next time. I’m sure that is _far_ less stupid. Sure.” Crowley was wriggling in his seat as Aziraphale kept a firm grasp on the demon’s feet. 

“Don’t be so ridiculous. Now be a dear and please hold still!” Aziraphale laughed fondly as Crowley squirmed in his seat. 

“Ssstop laughing at me!” Crowley hissed which just caused Aziraphale to laugh harder. Crowley huffed and swigged straight from the whiskey bottle. “You’re sssupposed to be the nice one.” 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and dropped Crowley’s feet into his lap. The skin was pink and new, not a trace of the deep burns left on the demon’s feet. He rested his hands on Crowleys ankles and reached for the bottle of whiskey that Crowley was currently cradling against his chest like a baby. 

“Of course I’m nice dear boy. I’m an angel.” Aziraphale smiled brightly at Crowley and let his love for the demon overflow the connection between them. To his utter delight, Crowley squeaked and blushed a deep red, brighter than his fiery hair, that was an interesting development indeed. “But it’s no fun being perfect all the time. I rather think humans have the right idea.”

“That’s dangerous talk for an angel.” Crowley raised an eyebrow behind his dark glasses. He pulled his feet off Aziraphale’s lap and shifted to the edge of his seat, staring intently at Aziraphale as if he were the key to unlocking some great question of the universe. 

“Hmm… Yes. I guess it is.” Aziraphale sighed. It wasn’t that he was questioning Heaven exactly. He certainly wasn’t questioning the Almighty but he was so full of love for the demon opposite him. Both Heaven and Hell would tell them it was forbidden and bad but how could being in love be a _bad_ thing? He just didn’t understand. Love was at the core of the Almighty’s virtues. Love in all forms was an angel’s soul. He could be a good angel. He always tried to be a good angel but if denying his love for Crowley made him a good angel then he wasn’t entirely sure that was what he wanted anymore. The humans had freewill then why couldn’t he? He chose the Almighty but he also chose Crowley. He _needed_ Crowley. 

“Angel?” Crowley’s hand covered his and the demon’s musky leathery whiskey scent washed over Aziraphale. He looked up to meet Crowley’s gaze. The demon’s glasses were now perched on the top of his hair, which was short and combed back far too neatly for a demon. Aziraphale decided he preferred it a bit longer. Short and neat did not suit his demon nearly enough. “Are you alright, angel?” Crowley’s concern was unsettling in Aziraphale’s chest. 

“What was it like?” Aziraphale asked under the yellow gaze of his demon. 

“What?”

“Falling?” He took the bottle from Crowley whilst the demon was stunned by the question. The liquid burned down his throat in the most delightful way and numbed his senses quite happily. 

“Oh angel…” Crowley’s hands cupped his face, and Aziraphale’s heart fluttered in his chest. “You can never Fall. You’re too _good._ You may not always be perfect but not even Heaven can match you for goodness.” Waves of love rolled off the demon. Aziraphale realised with a start that this was not a new phenomenon. He’d been feeling this from Crowley ever since Eden. It had gotten stronger over the years but he’d been blinded by its consistency. 

He gasped and stared in awe at his demon. 

“All this time?” He asked wide-eyed, his heart almost bursting in his chest. Crowley flushed and nodded, grabbing the bottle of whiskey back and gulping down far too much of the amber liquid to be respectable. 

“I’m a stubborn arse.” He mumbled and Aziraphale could feel his own cheeks heat up to mirror Crowley’s. 

“And I’m a blind fool.” Aziraphale leaned forward and rested his forehead against Crowley’s, much like he had back in the Castle the night the soul bond had formed between them. 

“Nonsense, you’re the smartest angel I know.” Crowley laughed happily. “Not that that’s saying much.” 

“Crowley.” He chided gently. Even if he secretly agreed. The other angels had no clue how to survive on Earth, no common sense amongst the lot of them. 

“Yes, angel?” His breath washed over Aziraphale’s face, yellow eyes sparkling mischievously. 

“I adore you.” Aziraphale smiled softly and their noses brushed together.

Crowley froze as he processed the words. Aziraphale giggled and pressed his lips against Crowley’s. They were soft as fresh white snow but as hot as fire. The air around them crackled into life and the old wireless radio began to play. Crowley melted into the kiss and hummed happily. The bottle of whiskey crashed onto the floor and Aziraphale’s fingers weaved into the demons hair which was beginning to fizz into flames at the tips. The fire danced around his fingers but it didn’t burn him. The kiss wasn’t long or passionate like he’d imagined it might be but it was perfect. Crowley’s lips were like the most delicious Crepes, better even. He tasted more divine than a glass of his favourite red wine and he was more addictive than turning the next page of an Oscar Wilde novel. 

Instinctively they broke for air and Crowley’s fingers ran down Aziraphale’s spine. It tingled most delightfully and sent a shiver through his whole body as Crowley’s fingers brush past his wings where they were hidden away. 

“Aziraphale.” Crowley whispered against Aziraphale’s cheek. Aziraphale felt all warm and fuzzy inside, he rather enjoyed the way his demon said his name. It was as if his name was the single most important word in the history of words, and to Crowley it was. “In vain have I struggled. It will not do.” Crowley pulled back enough so that their eyes could meet. The whites of his eyes had vanished and they were completely golden with dark ebony slits. Crowley wasn’t hiding any part of him from Aziraphale and that filled him with so much joy. “My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

“Crowley.” Aziraphale admonished with a light swat on the demon’s arm. “You did not just quote Miss Austen at me!” 

“I do love nothing in the world so well as you. Is not that strange?” Crowley pulled him into another kiss, longer than the first but just a perfect. Aziraphale was beginning to think that every kiss they shared would be perfect. 

“Crowley.” Aziraphale pouted. He wanted to be mad at the demon’s lack of originality but really he found it all to be most romantic. Crowley knew how much Aziraphale enjoyed the human’s stories, and, despite his protests against reading, he appeared to have learnt an abundance of quotes. 

“Doubt thou the stars are fire; doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.” Crowley pressed a kiss against the inside of Aziraphale’s wrist and he was helpless to do anything but stare fondly at his demon. The strands of love between them were now completely visible even to the most skeptic of humans, and every radio in London was now playing their song, much to the confusion of the radio stations. 

“I’ve never doubted you, my dear.” Aziraphale breathed softly and he brushed his fingers across Crowley’s cheek and down his neck. The demon shivered under his touch and their lips met once more, soft as the feathers in their wings. “Heaven will never allow this you know.” Aziraphale sighed as they broke apart. He regretted the words as soon as they fell from his lips. Crowley froze and the bond snapped shut. 

“Hell neither.” He scowled and pulled his glasses back over his eyes, much to Aziraphale’s disappointment. Why did he have to open his mouth? He ruined everything, he always did. He just couldn’t stop himself from making mistakes. He was a terrible angel. 

Crowley crossed the room, his fingers trailing the dusty spines of the books that lined the shelves. He took a long swig from the whiskey bottle that was miraculously not getting any emptier and then dropped down against the door with a long groan. The emotional wall was still up between them which hurt Aziraphale more than he was expecting but he understood. Of course he did. He clasped his hands in his lap and shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. 

“What are we going to do, Crowley?” He said, his voice barely above a whisper and tears threatening to fall from his eyes. The music had faded to silence and the radios of London had all ceased to work.

“I don’t know, angel. I don’t know.” Crowley looked up at him from where he was sprawled on the floor. “We could always forget it all and run away together?” 

Hope bubbled up in Aziraphale’s chest, seeping through the bond from Crowley. He took a deep breath and shook his head, wincing as the pain of rejection spiked in his heart and the bond slammed shut once more. 

“I can’t just give up on the humans Crowley. You said it yourself, they are bad enough with my influence. Can imagine what would happen if I left? And anyway I can’t just disobey orders!” Aziraphale tried to reach for Crowley but the demon turned away. 

“They have more mercy than Heaven or Hell. They’ll be fine.” He spat out bitterly. “Look if you don’t want me just say so, but don’t kiss me and speak of love and then toss me into the Holy Water.” 

Crowley scrambled to his feet and fled the shop before Aziraphale could form a reply. He was left feeling cold, staring at the open door after the demon. He wanted to run after him but his feet were frozen to the ground. Tears were streaming down his face, a dangerous thing for a demon to get too close to. He desperately tried to push his love for Crowley through their connection but the demon was blocking him with a wall stronger than diamonds. Aziraphale buried his face in his hands and began to sing. 

The song was mellow and haunted. The notes fell into a minor key and any passerby would have been moved to tears in an instant. Around the old bookshop, bunches of wild forget-me-nots, purple Hyacinths and marigolds began to grow and all around London florists found that all their red roses suddenly lost all their petals. The dresses in bridal boutiques fell apart at the seams and when dawn broke over the city, not a single bird would sing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Sorry Aziraphale is super hot/cold atm. He's a very conflicted angel who just wants to love a demon. Nothing's easy. Comments and kudos are lovely and I'm on tumblr @avengersbarnes (which right now is super multi fandom but I love to talk about my fics if you want to come yell at me)


	7. Who Wants to Live Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7! Wow was not expecting to write so much... oops. There are some mentions of HIV/AIDS in this chapter, only very briefly but the warning is here just in case.

**1991 AD**

Crowley shifted awkwardly in his seat and rested his head against the steering wheel of the Bentley. Aziraphale was late again. He was probably stuck in some book with a cup of cold cocoa on the table next to him. His head slipped on the steering wheel and hit accidentally hit the horn. It blared loudly and he jumped in his seat, hitting his head on the roof of the Bentley. He hissed in pain and as he landed back into his sit he morphed into his snake form. 

He leered at the steering wheel suspiciously and then curled up in his seat. It was still warm from where he had been sitting waiting for the angel to appear. The warmth felt good against his scales and helped him to forget the pain of life. He hummed as he settled in for a nap. He had had the Bentley long enough now that it could protect him from any curious bystanders or wayward angels without him having to put much effort in. He took a few deep breaths and let his consciousness fade into darkness. 

Perhaps by the time he woke up the humans would have discovered a way to stop dying every time he got attached. Wasn’t that a lovely thought?

He never remembered his dreams which was probably a blessing, no curse… or whatever. The nightmares though. They stayed with him like ghosts in a darkened theatre. Most of the time he woke up screaming as he felt his wings burn away to cinder in a flurry of white feather and ash. It left him feeling dizzy for days and he had to avoid any stairs until it passed. 

The worst nightmares weren’t the ones where he Fell. No, the worst nightmares were the ones where he stayed looking down from Heaven watching his angel Fall. The image of Aziraphale reaching up at him, his eyes glowing red as the golden specks were burnt out, his soft sandy halo hair staining to a mousy blond, his soft feathered wings singed and ashen, turning into a skeleton as he Fell out of Crowley’s reach. When he had those nightmares he would wake up with burning hot tears streaming down his face and his flat covered in thick layers of ice. 

Aziraphale always knew when it was that bad and within seconds of Crowley waking up the angel would be there, singing their song and cradling Crowley’s head against his chest until he could breathe properly again. 

Over the last 50 years their relationship had grown and developed. After they’d gotten over the slight bump after their first kiss, which admittedly had been mostly Crowley’s fault for overreacting, although Aziraphale still claimed he was to blame, they had slowly started to explore the new area of their relationship. They had to be cautious, as they always had with their friendship and the Arrangement, but that brought its own sort of thrill. Crowley never tired of tempting the angel back to his flat after a secret meeting at the back of a bar, or on top of a bus or sitting ever so close on a bench in the park. Aziraphale always protested but he had the cutest smile on his face that showed Crowley that it was all for show and Satan the way his face lit up whenever he spotted Crowley from across a museum or concert hall or theatre foyer. That smile made Crowley’s stomach flip and his heart race in a manner that was not all appropriate for a demon. 

He wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

He hissed happily as he dozed in the car, his thoughts swirling around a beautiful blond angel whose soul called to him in the most sinful way. He was pulled from his half conscious state by fingers gently tracing down the scales of his spine. He wasn’t worried by the intruder. The Bentley would only let one other being into the car without asking him and that was Aziraphale. 

The angel is question was humming under his breath as his fingers stroked down Crowley’s spine. Crowley uncurled his long body and nuzzled Aziraphale’s palm, giving a quick lick with the flick of his tongue before he slithered up the angel’s arm. He settled, as he did on their first meeting all those years ago, wrapped around Aziraphale’s shoulders. 

“Sorry I’m late, my dear.” Aziraphale said softly as the street lamps glowed in the street behind him. From where Crowley was sat he could see stars speckling the dark night sky and the moonlight was shining like silver on Aziraphale’s old bookshop. Crowley loved the moonlight, whilst the sunlight was bright and warm against his skin, or scales depending on what form he took, the moonlight cast everything in beautiful silver. The moon could not produce its own light but it could reflect the light of the sun and still managed to bring hope to those who saw it. Yes, Crowley really did love the moon. 

Crowley didn’t fancy changing back into a human shaped demon, he’d neglected his original form for too long, so he just flicked his tongue against Aziraphale’s cheek and nuzzled his neck, pushing his love for the angel through the bond. It had been almost two weeks since they had last managed to meet up, both busy with blessings and temptations around the world. It wasn’t very often that they both managed to return to London at the same time. He’d missed the angel, not that he would admit it aloud. Demons didn’t miss people, especially not angels that smiled brighter than the sun. 

“I assume you’ve heard the news.” Aziraphale sighed sadly as his hand rested on Crowley’s scaly body. The angel radiate warmth from his very soul that made Crowley’s coldblooded form very happy indeed. It was definitely a perk of having an angel for a soulmate. He knew that to Aziraphale he always felt almost too hot, which they had spent hours discussing over a bottle of wine. They had come to the conclusion that it was Aziraphale’s holy soul battling against Crowley’s demonic one that caused the heat. To humans Crowley always felt a little too cold and the angel always felt like the perfect temperature. 

Crowley hissed sadly in response. He’d torn the radio from his car when he heard the news. The damn machine still wouldn’t stop playing Best of Queen and it just wasn’t fair. Freddie had been a friend to Crowley. One of the only human friends he had made in the history of the Earth and his death had been brutal. The humans had blamed it on Heaven but Crowley knew better. This one had been all Pollution. It had been a tribute to Pestilence after he had retired and Pollution had been very proud of their work. A virus that polluted the bloodstream and slowly drained the immune system, choking the body to death. 

Aziraphale ran his hand down Crowley’s spine. It glowed gently in the dark car and Crowley sighed a deep breath of relief as his grief eased into a gentle hum. “Thanksss.” He hissed against his angel’s neck. 

“Of course, dearest.” Aziraphale smiled fondly down at him, his beautiful chestnut eyes were soft and warm. He could feel the grief that Aziraphale had taken from him burning in the angel’s chest but, just like the unicorn, between the two of them it was more manageable. 

They sat like that, with Crowley draped around Aziraphale’s shoulders, for almost an hour. Aziraphale rambled on about his day, all the customers that he’d politely dissuaded from buying books and the divine intervention that had taken him away from London for the last few days. Apparently Gabriel had been quite insistent that the Cold War needed to come to an end and Aziraphale had been away trying to help influence some key players in the Heaven’s direction. Armageddon could not occur without the Antichrist and the child had not yet been born so there was no point keeping this unnecessary political tension that was corrupting thousands of souls everyday. Crowley rolled his eyes, he would have to think of something else to keep Beelzebub off his back. The Cold War had been the perfect cover and he hadn’t had to do a single thing. He could get away with low level mischief that was far more fun. 

“Oh don’t look at me like that. You know I have to do the right thing. Why don’t you just build another motorway? They liked that one didn’t they?” Aziraphale booped his snout and his hissed with faked angers, nipping the angel’s fingers gently. “You know, Crowley, as much as I adore spending time with you like this. I can’t drive so if you wanted to go anywhere this evening then you really do need to change back.”

Crowley hissed in protest. He didn’t want to. He liked being a serpent. It was safe. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at him and he could sense a bubble of mischief from the angel that only ever meant trouble for him. Aziraphale sighed dramatically and Crowley just knew he was pouting. 

“Fine. We can sit here.” Aziraphale clasped his hands together in his lap and Crowley glowered at the angel. He was up to something, apparently over the years Aziraphale had realised that Crowley was entirely wrapped around his little finger. There wasn’t a lot he wouldn’t do for the angel and Aziraphale seemed determined to abuse that power at every available opportunity. “But you know, I was really hoping you would kiss me under the stars tonight.”

Fuck.

And there it was. 

Crowley popped back into his human form, landing quite ungracefully in Aziraphale’s lap. Their noses brushed and Crowley squeaked at the sudden proximity. 

“Ah there you are. Hell-” Aziraphale started to say but Crowley cut him off with a fierce kiss. The angel was right, it had been too long. Aziraphale hummed into the kiss as Crowley flicked his tongue against the angel’s lips, deepening the kiss with practiced ease. Aziraphale’s hands weaved into his hair and tugged gently causing him to let out a guttural moan and he caught Aziraphale’s bottom lip between his teeth. The angel gasped and his fingers ran down the length of his spine causing him to shiver with pleasure. 

“Hmm… hello, angel” He murmured as he brushed his lips against the angel’s neck, sucking gently at the soft sensitive skin. 

“No hickeys Crowley.” Aziraphale chided as he tugged Crowley’s hair, pulling his lips away from the angel’s neck. 

“You’re no fun, angel.” Crowley drawled but happily went back to peppering the angel’s face and lips with kisses. 

“You know how difficult it was to explain to Gabriel last time. Angel’s don’t get Lust assignments you know.” Aziraphale whispered breathlessly as Crowley nibbled his ear and rolled his hips forward causing a delightful friction between them. 

“hmm… Demonsss do.” Crowley hissed into the angel’s ear as he tugged at the hideous tartan bowtie that Aziraphale insisted on wearing. 

“You can’t possibly be suggesting…” Aziraphale feigned shocked. 

“Oh yes.” Crowley murmured as he pulled the bowtie from the collar, tossing it onto the back seat of the Bentley. 

“that I give you hickeys…” Aziraphale gave the most delicious little moan, so indecently innocent. 

“Mhmm…” Crowley licked a stripe along the angels neck. He did adore marking the angel as his but the angels marks on his skin were much easier to explain to Hell and he found he rather enjoyed knowing he belonged to his angel. 

“Insatiable demon.” Aziraphale almost growled which was unbelievably sexy and made Crowley burn like Hellfire. 

“Guilty as charge my honour.” He laughed and kissed his angel firmly on the lips. “It’s a shame there isn’t a gorgeous angel nearby to show me the error of my ways.” He winked at Aziraphale who laughed and rolled his eyes. The angel stroked his cheek and gazed up at him with such reverent love that Crowley almost turned straight back into a snake. Being on the receiving end of an angel’s love could be very overwhelming, especially when the angel was Aziraphale and had the largest heart of any angel on Heaven and Earth. 

“A shame indeed.” Aziraphale kissed his forehead far too sweetly and gave him the most beautiful gorgeous sunshine smile. Oh no… That was far too innocent for Crowley’s liking. Why did he have to fall in love with the only angel that was a bastard?

Then again he was probably also the only angel who could love a demon so he really couldn’t complain.

“Angel, pleasse.” Crowley squirmed in Aziraphale’s lap. They were already parked up by the bookshop, it would be so easy to slip upstairs without any agents of Heaven and Hell noticing them. Probably less conspicuous than sitting in the car making out like teenagers. 

“Hmm… Later. If you behave. I’ve packed us a picnic! I rather thought we could spend the evening watching the stars.” Aziraphale cupped his face and kissed his nose and Crowley hissed under his breath. 

“It’s safer inside.” He muttered even though his heart was racing a hundred miles an hour. He loved to watch the stars, he could point out to Aziraphale every single one he had helped to create and his companion would gasp in awe and wonder every single time as if they had never seen the stars together before. 

“Well fix it then.” Aziraphale challenged as he twirled a lock of Crowley’s hair in his fingers, eyes sparkling as he watched the way the fiery red strands caught in the lamplight. The angel flashed his emerald green eyes up to meet Crowley’s, his signature pout playing on his lips as he raised his eyebrows. 

Crowley groaned and buried his face in Aziraphale’s neck. Why was he so damn cute? Well… not damned, definitely not damned. Angelically cute? Like a cherubim but… cuter? 

Crowley snapped his fingers dramatically and somewhere in Australia a rogue Hell Hound found its way to the surface of the Earth. That should keep any agents on Earth, both infernal and divine, busy for a while. The air fizzled with evil energy and Aziraphale’s fingers laced into his hair. 

“Oh thank you darling.” Aziraphale cooed. “I even bought some angel cake from that bakery you like in Covent Garden.” The angel beamed and Crowley flushed brightly, where were his sunglasses. He felt all too exposed when Aziraphale looked at him like that. It was too much. He shone too brightly. 

“hmmph.” Crowley mumbled unintelligibly, it was supposed to be a thank you but Demons didn’t say thank you. 

“You know, dear boy, you can’t drive the car like this.” Aziraphale tilted his head like an adorable Labrador puppy. His eyes shifted to the drivers seat next to them which was all but abandoned. Crowley grinned. “No.” The angel gasped as the wheels of the Bentley began to shift forward. The gear stick moved on its own accord and the steering wheel spun round like a merry-go-round. 

“Oh really?” Crowley purred in his angel’s ear. Terror hummed him his chest, weaving in with his own adrenaline and delight. 

“Crowley! Stop the car this instance! You are going to get us both killed!” Aziraphale clung to him and buried his face in his chest. Crowley cackled and pushed the accelerator down further. The car lurched forward and Aziraphale shrieked, muffled against his shirt. “Crowley!”

“What’s that, angel? I can’t hear you over the sound of the engine!” Crowley yelled gleefully as he watched the blue lights begin to flicker behind the car. Driving turned out to be more difficult when you weren’t watching where you were going. Pedestrians screamed as they dove out of the way but Crowley was a responsible demon. None of them were hurt in the process, it would put them in a bad mood before bed though. 

The air crackled around them and the Bentley disappeared. Crowley landed face first onto a tartan blanket. 

“Oomph” He spluttered and looked up to find Aziraphale glowing above him. Ooh bugger. The angel was furious. Maybe he’d gotten a little carried away. “Now now angel…” He shuffled towards Aziraphale cautiously. 

“Oh now look what you made me do?!” Aziraphale shrilled with a wave of his hands. The burning glow of light simmered down back into his usual fluffy hair and he landed on the ground with a soft thud. “Gabriel must have noticed that.” He pouted and crossed his arms. “The picnic is ruined!” He whined. 

He was right. There was no way in Hell that Heaven wouldn’t have noticed a miracle of that size. The place would probably be full of angels very soon and their picnic date would be finished before it began. Crowley had to fix this, not even a rogue hell hound would be enough. He had to disappear. 

With a wave of his hand the picnic was all packed up, stored safely in another realm for the time being. He pulled Aziraphale towards him and kissed him firmly on the lips. This was the part he hated. The goodbyes. They always seemed to be saying goodbye. 

“Meet me in the planetarium. Half an hour. Don’t be late.” He hissed in Aziraphale’s ear.

The angel nodded and kissed Crowley’s hand. “I’ll be there. Now go! Gabriel is coming.”

* * *

In Heaven, an angel sat singing to themselves as they watched the screen in front of them. The angel’s name was Rochel. They had never asked to be put into the Earth Observation team but they weren’t one to question ineffability. Michael insisted it was all part of the Great Plan. Their specific job was to watch the angel Aziraphale. 

Rochel had notice pretty early on in their time in Earth Observation that Aziraphale was a little odd. He questioned things in a way that no other angel seemed to, behaviour that was encouraged by the demon Crowley, formerly known as Crawley. Rochel knew they should probably report this as suspicious behaviour to Michael but it wasn’t hurting anyone and the odd friendship between Aziraphale and Crowley led to more of Crowley’s plans being thwarted, in their opinion, and thus was actually good for Heaven. So they had let the angel be. 

The new development in their relationship was concerning but after watching their friendship grow and evolve over the last 6000 years, Rochel found the whole thing rather romantic. Aziraphale had fallen in love with the demon. Rochel couldn’t possibly punish an angel for falling in love and as long as Aziraphale continued to thwart Crowley’s demonic ways and save souls for Heaven then he really wasn’t doing anything wrong. So they had made the decision to keep quiet. Gabriel didn’t need to be distracted by an angel’s love affair anyway. He had a war to prepare for. They were almost envious, almost but not quite as that was sinful, that Aziraphale had found love. The romantic variety was rare in Heaven these days. Most angels were too focussed on the upcoming war. 

Still their thoughts drifted to one of the angels from Quality Assurance. She had soft chocolate brown hair with shimmering buttercup eyes and a voice that made Rochel’s soul feel all warm, like a summer’s day on Earth. They had noticed she sang the same song they did, and according to Earth lore that meant something special. Heaven rejected the idea of soulmates though, angels were apparently not bound by such churlish rules. So Rochel admired her from afar and kept their feelings to themselves. 

The machine next to them continually printed out a stream of data of all the miracles Aziraphale was performing and the souls he saved for Heaven. He didn’t have the best miracle to soul ratio but he had been on Earth since its creation which was commendable. If Aziraphale’s miracle to soul ratio tipped into red then Gabriel was informed and a letter of disapproval was sent to Earth. Any larger miracles went directly to Gabriel’s office for review. Larger miracles such as stopping a speeding car and returning it to its home whilst simultaneously teleporting two immortal beings to the suburbs of London. 

Rochel shuffled to the edge of their seat as they watched the screen. Crowley fled the scene quickly leaving Aziraphale behind to answer to Gabriel. 

Maybe they should have reported Aziraphale’s relationship with Crowley sooner but even angels had guilty pleasures and this was Rochel’s. It was better than those books Aziraphale loved so much, far more excitement! 

“Come on Aziraphale!” The murmured under their breath as they watched the screen. It was about to get good. 

* * *

Crowley paced in the small domed room. The projector was humming in the background and stars swirled around his head. The minutes ticked away slowly. Wasn’t time supposed to be meaningless for an immortal being? Half an hour should have felt like seconds to him and yet the clock seemed to be moving slower than ever. 

He’d screwed up royally. A proper cockup if ever he saw one. Always seemed to be the same over and over again. Cause some minor mischief that really barely makes any difference to the world, enjoy the thrill of being a little bit bad, then be thwarted by his own evil plans. 

He pulled his hair into his mouth nervously and flopped onto the hideous tartan picnic rug. His hair had grown just past his shoulders and he could just about tie it up in a tiny ponytail if he wanted to. He scowled. He felt wrong. He closed his eyes and shook his head, sticking his tongue and as he concentrated. His hair grew 6 inches and fell down to his belly button. His slim fitting waistcoat disappeared and his t-shirt shrunk, exposing his stomach. He’d seen that the crop top had become quite fashionable over the last decade but he’d yet to give it a try. His skinny jeans shifted into a long flowing skirt and his blazer melted into a dark denim jacket. 

Crowley sighed. This was much better. Now they just had to wait for Aziraphale. They prodded the bond curiously to see if the angel was on his way. Aziraphale answered with a wave of impatience and frustration but Crowley knew he was nearby.

They stared up into the constellations swirling around their head. Crowley had turned off the narration of the programme. They preferred to just watch the stars. They didn’t need some idiotic scientist to explain how stars were made. The scientists were wrong about that anyway. None of them knew what is was like to hold a burning ball of gas in their hands, what it was like to breathe life into each new creation. Scientists were idiots, and most of them unfortunately belonged to Hell. 

The clock ticked away, taunting Crowley with every second that passed. They sighed again loudly, as if that would summon the angel faster. Crowley wondered how they could make it up to their angel. Aziraphale loved chocolates, perhaps a delivery to the bookshop with some flowers would help. That’s what couples did these days right?

Crowley looked up as they heard footsteps coming down the hall. They smiled as their heart filled with warmth and love. Aziraphale had made it. They glanced to the clock, not a minute late. 

“Oh Crowley, my dearest.” Aziraphale shuffled across the room towards them. The blanket and picnic food was all spread out and waiting, two glasses of champagne sat perfectly chilled in the corner. “This looks amazing and you are really quite stunning.” 

Crowley blushed as Aziraphale pulled their sunglasses from their face. “Hng…I’m sorry.” They whispered in the darkness of the room. 

“Nonsense. Gabriel gave me a thank you note for stopping your run of terror through Soho. He was very impressed by how quickly I got there.” Aziraphale pulled Crowley’s wrist to his lips and kiss it lovingly. 

“Oh…” Crowley stumbled to find the words they wanted to say. “That’s… good?”

“Heavenly.” Aziraphale agreed.

“Hmm… Angel?” Crowley closed their eyes and took a deep breath. “Your wings”

“What about them? They haven’t…changed have they?” Aziraphale’s eyes widened and panic flooded through Crowley’s chest. Aziraphale’s wings burst free in a flurry of white feathers. 

“Satan. No. No… That’s not what I meant! I meant.” Crowley pulled their hair away from their face. Damn it, this was why they had cut it to begin with. “I meant! Can I groom them?” They flushed and stared intently up at the fake stars above them, ignoring the soft glow of desire and love in their chest. 

“Groom them?” Aziraphale whispered. His wings fluttered nervously behind him drawing Crowley’s attention. There were feathers sticking up all over the place and specks of dust and sand matted in the feathers. 

“Don’t have to. Just a thought. Stupid thought.” Crowley mumbled and scooped up their glass of Champagne, gulping it down in one. The fizz caught up their nose and they sneezed. 

“Bless you.” Aziraphale replied and his hair lit up brightly. Crowley’s own hair lit up in flames in response and their skin began to itch unpleasantly. “Oh goodness! Umm… damn you! Curse you! Umm… Foul demon beast!” Aziraphale pulled Crowley into a hug, the strands of their fiery hair danced around Aziraphale’s face, brushing away any fears he might have. Crowley laughed fondly at their angel’s daftness.

“I’m ok angel. It just tickled. Maybe don’t do it again?” Crowley nipped at Aziraphale’s ear gently causing the angel to yelp. 

“Wings!” He decided and sat promptly in Crowley’s lap. Crowley could feel rolls of embarrassment coming from the angel and they tried their best to calm him. 

Crowley spread Aziraphale’s wings out in front of them. They stroke their fingers down the strong bone structure down to the tips of Aziraphale’s primary feathers. The angel shivered in their lap and heat hummed through the bond causing Crowley’s dark grey wings to shimmer into existence. They began to hum under their breath as they methodically threaded their fingers through the dirt covered feathers. Whenever their fingers caught on a lose feather, Crowley would place a kiss on the back of Aziraphale’s neck before they gently pulled the feather free. Aziraphale never flinched, even when Crowley could feel the tiny pricks of phantom pain in their own wings. Crowley would mumble quiet apologies against Aziraphale’s neck whenever it got too much. Dust and specks of sand fell from Aziraphale’s wings onto the tartan rug and covering Crowley’s skirt. He sang quietly as Crowley worked. The feathers grew brighter, gaining a shimmer of holy goodness, the more Crowley straightened out the feathers. Crowley marvelled at the softness of chalky white feathers. The texture was addictive and they wanted to bury their face in the angel’s wings and let the angel surround them like a blanket. They were almost overwhelmed by the trust Aziraphale was placing in them. 

Never in the history of Hell had an angel ever let a demon touch their wings. 

Aziraphale never ceased to surprise them. 

“That feels…” Aziraphale breathed quietly, unable to finish his sentence. “It’s been so long…” He buried his face in his hands and Crowley was hit by a flood of loneliness. They gulped and stared entranced at the angel. 

How had they missed this?

Crowley scrambled around so they were facing Aziraphale. They kissed the angel’s forehead and embraced him. Crowley wrapped their wings around them both and sang quietly into the dark room. 

It had been a long day for both angel and demon. The world was mourning a legend. Crowley was mourning a friend, and Aziraphale was mourning an ideal of Heaven that had long since given way to a cold and sterile factory of souls. It shook the angel to his very core, it terrified him and he could nothing except cling to his soulmate hoping that ineffability wouldn’t be the end of everything he held dear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! Hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's been so interesting for me as a writer to explore the gender dynamics in a way I haven't yet been able to in other fandoms so I'm very grateful for the openness and kindness of this fandom to allow that. Hopefully next chapter will be raising Warlock! :D So that's exciting! Let me know what you think and I'm on tumblr too if you want to yell with me about this amazing fandom!


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